


Safe With Me

by accordingtomel



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Asexuality Spectrum, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7800811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accordingtomel/pseuds/accordingtomel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon jolts awake with a hoarse scream, gasping for air that he no longer needs. Several long moments pass before he’s able to get his bearings, remember where he is and what the hell is going on. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to focus, but when they do, Simon realizes that someone’s in the room with him, standing at the foot of his bed.</p><p>“It’s okay,” the voice says, “You’re safe.”</p><p>There’s a familiarity there, but it takes a second for Simon’s brain to process why he knows it.</p><p>“Raphael?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>The dream is still fresh in his mind, so fresh that he reaches an unsteady hand up to press against his teeth. The lingering taste of blood in his mouth feels so real that Simon almost doesn’t believe it when his hand comes back clean.</p><p>“Did I…? Did I hurt them?”</p><p>Raphael shakes his head. “No. You were dreaming.”</p><p>***</p><p>OR: The one where Simon has nightmares, and Raphael helps him cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe With Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started this fic as a side project from another Saphael fic, because I was worried that it was going to be too long. This was actually supposed to be around 5k, max, but somewhere along the line it grew into this monster of a fic instead. So, yeah... that worked out well. Full disclosure: this fic is so incredibly self-indulgent. Like I basically wrote it to make myself happy and as it got longer and longer, I decided to throw in as many of my favourites tropes as I could, just because I wanted to.
> 
> Anyway, I have so many awesome people to thank for making this fic possible in the first place though. First of all, all of my love and immense gratitude to my awesome friend, **thesparkandtheking** , who encouraged and supported me throughout this whole process. I forced her to basically read everything and give me feedback and constructive criticism on the story and characterizations. She also had to listen to me whine and cry and freak out along the way. I don't think she realizes how amazing and helpful she's been. So, thank you, my friend!!
> 
> Tons of love and hugs to my amazing friend and beta, **superflouousemi** , for being a superstar and reading through this monster for me when I needed it. As well as providing encouragement, feedback, and leaving me lovely, flailing comments that made my day. 
> 
> Huge thanks to **thatchickwholikesbooks** for doing all the Spanish translations for me, because I don't know a lick of Spanish. Literally could not have done this without you! So thank you, hon!
> 
> And finally, I wanted to thank **hibyefxlicia** for encouraging me to write this in the first place, and promising me that it didn't suck when I was in the early phases of writing it and sent a scene along for feedback. Thank you, you're the best :)
> 
> Simon having nightmares was inspired by my own battle with nightmares. Figure that if I'm going to have them, I might as well use that to my advantage somehow, right? :) Also, I don't specifically address Raphael's sexuality until the end of the fic, and it's also somewhat vague, but I'm headcanoning that he's demisexual. I've tried to portray it as accurately as I can, based on my own experiences and on what I've read. Hopefully it comes across okay, but let me know if I've terribly messed anything up.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! This has been a labor of love, but I'm really pleased with the final outcome.

The first time Simon has a nightmare that he can remember, he is 5 years old. He can't recall what the dream is actually about, only that he'd woken up in tears, and had wandered across the hall to curl up for the rest of the night beside his mother.

It is the first time, but it certainly isn’t the last.

Over the years, the nightmares come and go. Sometimes Simon can go weeks or even months without any at all. Other times, he wakes up screaming and crying, multiple nights in a row. Sometimes the nightmares appear randomly, but often the worst episodes occur after a stressful life event. His mother eventually takes him to see his pediatrician, but the doctor says it’s normal, and that Simon should eventually grow out of it.

He doesn’t. But he does learn how to deal with them out of necessity. 

By the time Simon graduates from high school, he’s probably the healthiest he’s been in years, both physically and emotionally. The nightmares have decreased, he’s in a band that actually has a vague hope of going somewhere, he’s got a supportive mom and sister, he’s gearing up for college, and he has the best friend he could ever ask for by his side. 

Granted, things are made a little more complicated when Clary -- and by extension, Simon -- is thrust into a whole new secret supernatural world full of Shadowhunters, warlocks, vampires, werewolves and God only knows what else. And fine, so his lifelong best friend and her parents are not only part of it, but played an incredibly significant role in how said supernatural world has evolved over the past 18 years. But Simon’s cool, he’s flexible, so he can roll with the proverbial punches. He’s totally got this under control.

So, of course, that’s when he has to go and screw everything up by dying.

* * *

The first time the nightmares return also happens to be the very first day that Simon stays alone at the DuMort. He’s confused and scared and frustrated with everything that’s happened, and being presented with a room of his own does nothing to quell the anxiety he feels. He already has a room and a home. This isn’t right, he shouldn’t be here, he doesn’t _belong_ in a hotel filled with vampires. A month ago Simon wouldn’t have even thought any of this was possible, let alone that he’d be living it. He belongs at home, in his own bed, with his mother and sister just down the hall.

Sleep eludes Simon for hours, every inch of him keyed up and on alert, but when he finally does drift off into an uneasy slumber, he is immediately overcome with the worst nightmare he’s had in years. He dreams of turning, of his own death and clawing his way back to the surface of his shallow grave. He dreams of bloodlust, filled with nothing but desire for the warm tangy taste of the blood of those closest to him. He dreams of his family and his friends -- his mom, Rebecca, Clary, Jocelyn, Luke -- of ripping their throats out with his teeth and nearly drowning in the taste of their blood. He sees their fear, smells their terror, and watches as the life drains from their bodies, knowing that he can’t save them, that he’s not sure he even wants to. There is pain and horror and blood, so much blood.

Simon jolts awake with a hoarse scream, gasping for air that he no longer needs. Several long moments pass before he’s able to get his bearings, remember where he is and what the hell is going on. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to focus, but when they do, Simon realizes that someone’s in the room with him, standing at the foot of his bed.

“It’s okay,” the voice says, “You’re safe.”

There’s a familiarity there, but it takes a second for Simon’s brain to process why he knows it.

“Raphael?”

“Yeah.”

The dream is still fresh in his mind, so fresh that he reaches an unsteady hand up to press against his teeth. The lingering taste of blood in his mouth feels so real that Simon almost doesn’t believe it when his hand comes back clean.

“Did I…? Did I hurt them?”

Raphael shakes his head. “No. You were dreaming.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’ve been here the whole time.”

But it doesn’t feel like a dream. At all. The thought makes Simon sick. “How do you know I didn’t sleep walk and kill everyone I love?”

“Someone would have seen you leave the hotel.”

Simon closes his eyes, and rests his face in his trembling hands.

Raphael clears his throat, shifting his weight back and forth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Simon snorts. “Yeah, no.”

Silence falls over the room for a few moments, and Simon is immediately drawn back into the horrors of his nightmare, reliving every painful second of it like he’s watching a high definition movie version of the dream. It doesn’t matter if his eyes are open or closed, he can see everything in vivid detail.

“Tell me something, then,” Raphael says, startling Simon out of his thoughts for a moment.

“Tell you something.”

“Yes. Talk about your life, your favorite movie, I don’t know. Just talk.”

“You mean the life that is now destroyed forever? You want me to talk about how I’ll probably never be able to see my family again? Never get to go to college or go on tour with my band? About how I’ll never see another sunrise as long as I live.” Simon shakes his head miserably. “As long as I’m undead. Whatever. Wow, this sounds like great therapy, thank you so much.”

Something warm drips down Simon’s cheek, and he’s horrified to realize that he’s crying. Simon swipes at his eyes, embarrassment flooding through him. He’s a grown ass adult, crying in front of his new vampire clan leader like a small, weak child. And all because of a nightmare.

But Raphael doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tell Simon to grow up, that it was just a dream, or that he should stop crying like a baby. Simon expects it, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he tosses a box of tissues at Simon and quietly waits him out.

When Raphael finally speaks again, it’s something that Simon never would have expected to hear come out of his mouth. By the expression on his face, it’s likely not something Raphael expected to say either.

“What about your favorite movie?”

In spite of everything, Simon’s eyebrows shoot up high on his forehead. “You can’t be serious.”

Raphael narrows his eyes. “I am.”

Simon wipes at his nose once more and tosses the tissue away. “First of all, I couldn’t possibly choose just one movie. And secondly, I highly, highly doubt you want to hear about this.”

“Try me.”

It sounds like a challenge. Which Simon is normally up for, but not so much in his current state. Still, once it becomes obvious that Raphael isn’t going anywhere, and that he very well may have been living under a rock all these years, Simon starts talking about Star Wars. Raphael nods along like he’s listening, but at some point Simon doesn’t even care if he’s not. The distraction helps take his mind off of the nightmare, and somewhere into his explanation about the best order to watch the series in, he drifts off.

* * *

It would be nice if Simon could say that the nightmares stop after a few nights. But they don’t. In fact, they continue, and even seem to get worse. 

A week in, Simon is feeling frustrated and embarrassed and humiliated. He failed at life and now apparently he’s doomed to fail at his undead life. It figures that his anxiety issues would transcend both life and death, because that’s just his luck. What’s worse, Raphael has shown up, like clockwork, every single night (day -- he sleeps during the day now, at least when he’s not helping Clary and the rest of the Shadowhunters). He’s been surprisingly supportive, in that gruff and prickly way that he has about him. Simon figures it’s kindness masked as extreme annoyance. Or maybe it’s as kind as he’s able to be without throttling Simon to his second death. Either is a reasonable explanation, all things considered; he knows he’s an acquired taste. Simon is positive of one thing, though: Raphael has far better things to do with his time than babysit Simon after his nightmares.

“I thought I was finally done with the nightmares,” Simon sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

Raphael is sitting on a chair beside Simon’s bed. He’s not sure when that became a permanent fixture in his room, but apparently it happened some time over the past week. Raphael still isn’t one for talking. At all, but definitely not in these situations. However, it doesn’t escape Simon’s attention that Raphael is surprisingly good at distracting Simon from his thoughts when he most needs it. It’s one of many reasons why Raphael makes a good leader, and Simon can’t help but respect him for it.

“They won’t last forever.”

Simon eyes him critically. “Yeah? And how do you know that?”

“You’re not the first fledgling to have nightmares after being turned,” Raphael says, holding his gaze. “And you won’t be the last. But they will go away.”

It sounds like a wonderful fantasy, but Simon has yet to see any signs of this getting better.

“Okay, whatever you say.” Simon goes back to staring up at the ceiling. He’s not sure he has the ability to say much else. He feels emotionally and physically exhausted like he hasn’t in a very long time.

“You know, I experienced the same thing… after I was turned.”

Simon blinks, surprised by Raphael’s admission. This is legitimately the first time Raphael has revealed anything personal about himself to Simon, and it throws him enough to drag his mind away from the horrors of his most recent dream. Maybe that was his goal.

Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. “How did you deal with them?”

There’s a long pause, before, “Not well.”

“You know, you might want to work on your pep talk skills a little bit.”

Raphael glares at him. “I had help. A good friend. I’m not sure I would be here, if not for him.”

That peaks Simon’s interest. “Who was it?” he asks.

“That’s not important.”

Simon begs to differ, but realistically he knows he can’t force Raphael to tell him anything he doesn’t want to. There’s that pesky thing Simon has about respecting the privacy of others, and he may not exactly like Raphael, but that’s completely irrelevant in the whole grand scheme of things. Besides, he’s already learned more about Raphael this evening than in the previous two weeks combined.

“All right, fine. But how, exactly, does this help me?”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “My point was that you can’t do things alone. Everyone needs help at times. These nightmares won’t last forever.”

Simon wants to believe that. He just doesn’t know if he can yet. “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“It would be wise for you to start doing that more often.” Raphael nods, then stands up. He turns away from Simon before glancing over at him once more. “Try to get some sleep. I’m sure your little Shadowhunter friends will be around soon to drag you away.”

And with that, Raphael excuses himself.

Simon feels oddly conflicted, and he finds himself staring at his bedroom door long after Raphael has left.

* * *

Simon’s not sure how it happens. One day he's the brand new baby fledgeling of the clan who needs daily support just to fall asleep, and the next, he's somehow Raphael’s second in command. Or at least that’s what it seems like. Truth be told, he doesn't know much about vampire politics, but he gets the sense that this isn't exactly a typical arrangement. 

The rest of the clan looks at Simon like they can't quite figure him out, or why on earth Raphael would choose him in the first place. Simon can't say he blames them though. He's equally baffled by this turn of events. However, the more he gets to know Raphael, the more Simon finds himself liking him, or at least feeling intrigued by him. He’s got a sharp wit about him and can snark with the best of them, which Simon can’t help but appreciate. But he’s also caring and compassionate, and most importantly, a good leader to the rest of the clan. Sometimes Simon still doesn’t understand what’s going on in Raphael’s head, but he makes the effort, because he’s starting to learn that it’s usually worth it.

Except when it comes to his wardrobe. Simon has no idea why Raphael seems to have an almost obsessive interest in the clan’s clothing choices, but he suspects it’s at least partially fueled by his desire to portray a particular image to the rest of the shadow world. Simon had jokingly called it the ‘vampire aesthetic,’ and Raphael had looked at him like he’d lost his mind. Simon was going to have to work on getting Raphael’s cultural references up to the 21st century again.

Simon himself doesn’t exactly have an award winning wardrobe when compared to an average person of his age, let alone when compared to a bunch of vampire models. So, he should have known that there would be no way for him to escape Raphael’s judgement on the evening of Alec’s wedding.

“Please tell me you’re not wearing that.”

Simon glances down at his outfit and frowns. “What’s wrong with it?”

He’d carefully gone through all of the clothes he had at the DuMort, eventually settling on this outfit. It wasn’t necessarily going to win him any high fashion awards, but it was clean, and he looked presentable. At least as far as he was concerned. Besides, no one was going to be paying attention to him.

“What’s wrong with it? Dios, you’re attending a wedding, not going to a rock concert,” Raphael says, eyebrows rising high on his forehead.

“I look fine.”

“You’re in jeans.”

“So? They’re nice jeans. I even washed them.” He didn’t, but Raphael doesn’t need to know that. The important part is that they’re clean. “And I’m wearing a leather jacket. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Raphael stares at him, a horrified expression on his face. Simon tries and fails not to smile at how affronted he looks.

“This is not funny. As the only vampire attending this wedding, you’re representing the clan. You need to not only behave respectably, but look the part, too. Which means there is no way in hell you’re wearing that.”

Simon raises his own eyebrows at Raphael. “Yeah, well, this is the best I’ve got, so...”

Raphael makes a face and grabs onto Simon’s arm. “Let’s go,” he says, and proceeds to drag Simon out of his room and down the hallway.

“Uh, where? We don’t really have time to go shopping right now.”

“No, we don’t,” Raphael agrees. “Which is why you’re going to wear something of mine instead.”

Simon finds himself at a loss for words as Raphael ushers him into his bedroom and then proceeds to toss various articles of clothing at him to start trying on. (And by “toss”, Simon means he carefully lays out each item of clothing for Simon, with the understanding that he will not damage anything in the process under the penalty of death. ...Again.) The first two suits he puts on don’t fit him quite right, but the third one feels like it was literally designed for his body.

“Hmm. I think this one will do,” Raphael says, giving Simon an assessing once over.

Maybe it’s his imagination, but Simon is pretty sure that Raphael’s gaze lingers a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“Okay, so do I look acceptable now?” Simon asks. He feels like a million bucks, but can’t help but wonder how Raphael can possibly wear a suit like this as casual, everyday attire. Simon can’t even begin to imagine what kind of outfit Raphael would wear to a wedding.

“It’ll do,” Raphael says. But he gives Simon one of his rare smiles, and it makes him feel oddly proud, even though he hasn’t done anything.

“Now, get going. You don’t want to show up late and crash the wedding.”

Simon grins and does just that, feeling pleased with his new look.

* * *

(Later that night, when Simon finally returns to the DuMort, he immediately seeks out Raphael to return his suit and tell him what happened with the wedding. He ends up talking for a good hour, hands flailing with excitement the more he gets into his story. Perhaps even more exciting than Magnus crashing Alec’s wedding, though, is how Raphael listens to every detail of his extensive recounting of events and doesn’t once try to rush him to finish.)

* * *

Of course, the moment things finally start to come together for him again is the moment that Simon chooses to screw up royally. This wasn’t what he’d wanted in any way, shape or form, but Raphael hadn’t given them any other options. However, the look on Raphael’s face when he realizes that Simon has betrayed him is one that Simon won’t forget for a long, long time.

The fact that they make it out of the DuMort -- both alive, and with Camille -- is amazing in and of itself, and while Clary and Izzy celebrate their victory, Simon starts to feel like the pile of garbage that he most definitely is. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have time to dwell on the errors of his way as Camille leads them to one of her apparently many apartments. The only goal on Simon’s mind in that moment is getting the Book of the White so Magnus can wake up Jocelyn.

It isn’t until the late hours of the morning, when Simon is finally able to rest for a moment, that his mind begins to play Raphael’s words over and over again, like a mantra.

“Simon’s betrayed us, just as Camille did.”

The only consolation in all of this is that Izzy offers him a place to stay at the Institute, which at least means that he gets to be around Clary and the rest of his friends. It isn’t much, but it’s all he has to hold onto right now.

* * *

As it turns out, living at the Institute isn’t nearly all it’s cracked up to be.

For starters, despite his close connections to Clary and Jocelyn, vampires are generally not welcomed guests. Especially not ones who have a bounty on their heads and have no plans to leave any time in the foreseeable future. No one says anything to him directly, which is probably largely due to Clary and Izzy’s interference, but the looks that the others give him on a daily basis are enough for Simon to get the hint. He’s a downworlder, invading their space when they’ve just lost one of their own (Jace), and are trying to stop a full out war with Valentine. He knows he’s about as welcome as Magnus was to Maryse when he crashed Alec’s wedding.

Then there’s the fact that Simon can’t exactly leave the Institute with the rest of the gang whenever they’re off on a mission. Especially if that mission happens to occur during the day. Simon wants to help, and the sun isn’t exactly working in his favor. But he quickly learns that even the evening and night time missions are off limits to him anyway, as he: a) is not, in fact, a Shadowhunter; b) still has a hit on his head; and c) would only be a liability, due to said hit. 

So, Simon finds himself falling into a rather monotonous routine wherein he sleeps for most of the day (on the days when he doesn’t have a nightmare), touches base with his friends for the few hours a day that they’re both awake at the same time, then spends his nights doing what he can to be useful. Which, it turns out, isn’t very much. More often than not, Simon alternates between reading, watching movies on his laptop, and staring forlornly at the wall as he questions all of the life choices that brought him to this very moment. He would be tempted to call the whole thing “mundane,” but even Simon can’t bring himself to make _that_ joke.

On the third day, Simon adds an apology text to Raphael to his routine. He doesn’t ask to be forgiven or try to justify his actions, because he knows Raphael doesn’t want to hear either. It’s nothing, in the grand scheme of things he can do, but it’s a start. And maybe some day it’ll mean something.

Unsurprisingly, Raphael doesn’t respond to his message.

* * *

Loathe though he is to admit it, Simon’s able to recognize that there are a few small bonuses to suddenly having a significant amount of unoccupied time on his hands. 

For one, he’s on his way to being in the best shape of his life. The Institute has an amazing training facility, which Alec had given him access to during the night while almost everyone else is sleeping. So, Simon starts spending hours a day working his body as hard as he’s physically able. It isn’t as effective as the training he used to do with Raphael, but it helps to channel some of his energy and frustration, which also helps control some of his bloodlust. He’s just thankful that Clary managed to arrange for animal blood to always be on hand for him. It isn’t the best, but it’s good enough to curb his hunger.

The other major benefit is that Simon suddenly has all the time in the world to reflect on a number of things that have happened over the course of the past few months. It hasn’t exactly been pleasant, but he’s been able to reach a few important conclusions:

1\. He fucked up big time when it came to Raphael and the clan, and he owes them far more than a simple apology. Assuming they would even allow him to talk before killing him for the second time.

2\. Living at the DuMort wasn’t nearly as awful as he’d once thought, and it wasn’t until he was away from the rest of the clan that he realized just how important they all were to both his physical and mental health.

3\. Conversely, living at the Institute was far more difficult and isolating that he ever could have imagined. They all tried their best to keep him in the loop, but with Jace being gone and Valentine still on the loose, Simon was understandably very low on their priority list.

And, much to his extreme chagrin, Simon was also able to acknowledge something that he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of even a few months earlier.

4\. Regardless of her relationship with Jace -- past, present, or future -- there was no place for Simon in Clary’s life in a romantic way. She loved him as a best friend, and always would, but their relationship would never progress to something more.

They were all rather shitty realizations, when it came down to it, but they had the added benefit of helping Simon formulate a plan and a purpose in his life moving forward. There was nothing he could do about Clary, other than continue to be her best friend and watch out for her like he always had. But he was more capable of doing something to make up for his awful behaviour towards Raphael and the clan, and God help him, he wouldn’t give up until he’d made things right again.

Thankfully, Simon's pretty sure he knows just the person who can help him.

* * *

“Oh, it’s you.”

In terms of greetings, it isn’t exactly the most welcoming. But the door hasn’t been slammed in Simon’s face yet, so he’ll take what he can get at this point. He’s heard by word of mouth (aka he heard it from Izzy who heard it from Alec who heard it from Magnus) that Magnus isn’t particularly thrilled with Simon at the moment, after learning what went down with him and the vampires. It’s understandable, considering Magnus is both a friend of Raphael, and a Downworlder himself. But regardless of Magnus’ feelings towards Simon, it’s for those exact reasons that Magnus is in the best position to give him advice on what to do. 

Magnus isn’t dressed as elaborately as usual, but he still looks well put together in a purple silk shirt and tight black pants. Objectively, Simon can appreciate why Alec would be drawn to him. But since this line of thought is so far from relevant to the current situation, he pushes it away to focus on why he’s actually at Magnus’ apartment at midnight on a Tuesday.

Simon shuffles awkwardly in the doorway and bites the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. I, uh, needed to talk to you about something.”

“Something?” Magnus asks, “Or some _one_?”

“Can I come in?”

Magnus eyes him critically. “I don’t know. Is there a reason I should let you in?”

It’s a fair enough question, Simon supposes. Magnus and Raphael have a friendship that’s existed for many more years than Simon has been alive or dead.

“Honestly, you have every right to kick me out and never talk to me again,” Simon says. Not that he and Magnus have a history of actually talking. But it’s the sentiment that counts here. “Look, I fucked up with Raphael. Big time. I know that now. And I want to make it right -- I _need_ to make it right with him.”

“And so you came to me with, what, the hope that I might be able to help you clean up this mess somehow?”

“Yes? I mean, maybe?” Simon swallows back his anxiety, because this has to work. He needs Magnus more than words can express. “I know you’re friends with Raphael. Plus, you understand Downworlder culture. So, if anyone can help me, it’s you.”

Magnus stares long and hard at him for a few tense moments before apparently deciding that Simon is worthy of his time. He steps away from the door and heads towards his living room. Simon shuts the door and follows Magnus.

“Would you like a cocktail?”

Simon blinks. “Uh… sure?”

That seems to be the correct response. Magnus hums to himself, and a moment later, Simon feels a martini glass materialize in his hands.

“All right, Samson. As much as I’m enjoying this little visit, I do have other places to be. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Magnus gestures towards the couch, and Simon immediately takes a seat across from him. 

“I could pretend that I don’t know what you’re talking about, and have you explain the whole thing to me. But in the interest of time, I’m going to be upfront with you and just tell you that I’m fully aware, from a first hand account, of what transpired between you and my dear friend.”

Simon nods, takes a swig from his glass, then puts it down on the coffee table in front of him. He can barely taste it anyway.

“You have to understand.” Magnus waves a hand in the air around his head as he paces back and forth in front of Simon. “Trust is a very delicate thing, especially to us Downworlders. We don’t give it easily, so you should know that it means something to receive it. But broken trust is not something we take lightly, and certainly not something we can easily forget.”

Simon tries not to visibly cringe at the implication, but he doubts he’s very successful with that, if the look of pity on Magnus’ face is anything to go by.

“Raphael gave you his trust. I can’t possibly imagine why he did so with such swiftness, but there must have been a reason,” Magnus continues, shooting Simon a significant look. “However, when you released Camille against his wishes -- wishes that were very justifiable, I might add -- you betrayed that trust in one of the worst ways possible. Not only did you put Raphael and the clan at risk, but you turned on them by siding with Shadowhunters, no less.”

Guilt crawls up Simon's spine, and he ducks his head in shame. At the time, he'd only been thinking about Jocelyn, of finding a way to wake her up so Clary could have her mother back, and so she could help them stop Valentine. He'd known that Camille was dangerous, that what they were doing was risky at best and foolish at worst. But he clearly hadn't thought things through as thoroughly as he should have. He hadn't considered how their actions might have an impact on himself, on the clan, on Magnus, and especially on Raphael. Raphael, who had literally done nothing but try to watch out for Simon and keep him safe, who was now the biggest obstacle between Camille and her goal of reclaiming the clan for herself. When it's all laid out so clearly for him, though, the whole thing makes Simon feel more than a little sick. There had to have been another way, but Simon had refused to even look for it.

“Had I known the circumstances surrounding Camille’s release--” Magnus shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “Well, that’s not important right now. What’s done is done. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

“I… don’t know. That’s why I’m here,” Simon admits. “I have ideas, but I feel like I’m grasping at straws. I need help.” Desperately. He doesn’t add that, but it’s implied.

Magnus’ eyebrows climb high on his forehead, and Simon’s never felt so judged in his entire life. Rightfully so, though, he will readily admit.

“Then tell me, what have you done so far to try to make amends?”

“I’ve tried apologizing through text,” Simon says. It already sounded lame in his head, but it sounds significantly more lame now that he’s said it out loud. “I’ve tried arranging to meet so I can apologize in person, but he hasn’t responded to any of my messages.”

Magnus tuts and shakes his head. “Oh, pumpkin, please don’t tell me you actually expected that to work.”

“Of course not. But what else can I do? I can’t exactly show up at the DuMort to talk to him in person. I'd be killed before I could even open my mouth.”

"Mmm, maybe," Magnus agrees with a shrug. "But then again, maybe not. He may not look it, but Raphael is rather a softie at heart. Not that I can hold it against him, as it is a flaw we both share." 

Magnus waves his empty hand in the air, and his drink refills instantaneously. He takes another long sip before returning his attention to Simon. "Nevertheless, your texts are unlikely to have any real impact."

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

“Trust isn’t something easily earned, let alone re-earned. But forgiveness… well, that’s another story entirely.”

“Are you saying that Raphael won’t ever be able to forgive me?”

“On the contrary. I’m suggesting that you focus your attention on seeking forgiveness, rather than hoping to regain the trust Raphael once instilled in you, as those odds are much higher, by my calculations.”

Simon considers this for several moments. It makes sense, though. He wouldn’t trust himself if he was Raphael either, not after what he did. But if forgiveness is in the cards at all, it’ll absolutely be worth whatever he needs to do.

“Okay, great. So, how do I do that then?”

“I can’t tell you what you need to do, you need to figure that out for yourself,” Magnus supplies helpfully. Simon tries not to sigh audibly in frustration. “But if I might make a suggestion?”

“Yes, anything,” Simon says, unconcerned with how eager he sounds. This is more important than his pride.

“If you want Raphael’s forgiveness, you need to show him that you’re serious about it. Prove to him that he didn’t make a mistake in trusting you in the first place.”

It sounds great, in theory, but he still doesn’t know what that means. “How do I do that?”

“I’m afraid that that’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own,” Magnus says. “But you’re an intelligent man, so I’m sure you’ll be able to come up with something.”

It isn’t really the pep talk he was hoping for, or the brilliant solution to all of his problems. But Magnus, for his part, sounds like he’s being sincere in his confidence in Simon’s ability to figure this out. It’s probably the most help he’s going to get from any one person right now, so he’ll take it for what it’s worth.

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. Thank you, Magnus.”

Simon hops off the couch and makes his way towards the front door. Before he leaves, though, he turns back to Magnus, suddenly feeling the urge to reassure him somehow that his time and confidence won’t be wasted.

“I just wanted to let you know that I _will_ make it up to Raphael, no matter how long it takes. I can promise you that.”

A soft, almost melancholic smile crosses Magnus’ face for the first time. “I hope so,” he says quietly, before Simon excuses himself.

* * *

The solution to his current problem is actually pretty obvious, once Simon sits down and just _thinks_. Simon is kicking himself for not figuring it out sooner. It’s clear that he needs to track down Camille, so Raphael and the clan can deal with her. Properly, this time.

Of course, knowing what he needs to do and actually doing it are two completely different things.

Simon doesn’t exactly have much in terms of resources at his disposal these days, beyond his laptop, a WiFi connection, his mostly untrained vampire senses, and friendship with a few Shadowhunters with minimal connections, at best. It doesn’t exactly spell success, but Simon is nothing if not unrelentlessly determined when he needs to be. He just needs something to go on to get the whole process started.

The laptop and WiFi probably won’t help much, since she could literally be anywhere in the city, and Camille isn’t likely to be broadcasting her location over the Internet. Simon already tried to trace her cell number, courtesy of a highly suspicious Magnus, but was unsuccessful. The enhanced senses aren’t useful until he narrows down a possible location. Which means there’s only one real option moving forward.

“Seriously, Simon?”

Izzy grabs onto his arm and pulls him further into the corner of the room, despite the fact that they’re essentially already alone.

“Yes. And you’re the only one who can help me,” Simon says. “Alec would never go for it, and Clary’s got too much going on right now with everything. Plus, she can’t access the system anyway.”

Izzy frowns, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “You do realize how dangerous this is, right?”

“Look, I’m not going after Camille. I’m not that stupid. I just need to find out where she’s hiding out.”

“And what are you going to do with that information when you get it?”

Simon is tempted to make something up, but if he’s asking Izzy for help then he figures he should at least be honest with her.

“I’m going to give it to Raphael.”

Izzy’s face falls a little at that name, and Simon tries not to feel offended on Raphael’s behalf. It’s not like there’s any love lost between the two of them, but it’s yet another fallout of Simon’s poor decision making skills.

“Then what?” Izzy eventually asks.

“Then… I don’t know. The clan can deal with it however they want to, I guess.”

“And what’s in it for you?”

Simon shrugs. “Maybe nothing. But maybe it’s a step towards making amends. I have to at least try.”

Izzy’s mouth falls open for a moment, and Simon can almost see the gears turning in her head as they work to come up with a rebuttal.

But Simon’s not in the mood to have this particular conversation right now, so before she can say anything he adds, “I’d rather save the argument for another time. We’ve got enough going on right now as it is. I just need to know if you’re going to help me or not.”

Izzy presses her lips together in a tight line and casts one more glance around the room. “Okay, fine. I’ll help you see what kind of intel we have. But you’d _better_ not do anything stupid, understood?”

Simon grins, and reaches out to shake her hand. “Deal. Nothing stupid.”

* * *

Simon does something stupid. 

Something really, monumentally, incredibly stupid, in fact.

In his own defense, his intentions had been honorable.

With Izzy’s help, they’d been able to gather some intel on recent suspicious Downworlder activity. Simon wasn’t too sure how he felt about the fact that they were being monitored, but that was another issue for another day. It was enough to give him a place to start, even if there were literally hundreds of places Camille could be hiding.

For three days straight, Simon had poured over the data, eliminating as many possibilities as he could before narrowing his options to the top 10 most likely locations. Despite the fact that there was still a kill order on his head, Simon knew he had to risk leaving the DuMort in order to finish his research. Handing off a list of 10 potential places to find Camille to Raphael didn’t cut it. Simon wanted to be sure -- _needed_ to be sure -- he was providing Raphael with the best possible information he could.

The first four locations on the list had turned up nothing of interest. It was frustrating, but at least he could cross them off the list.

But the fifth… well, the fifth location had reminded Simon of why Raphael always spoke so strongly of mastering his enhanced vampire skills. Simon’s barely set foot on the property of the supposedly abandoned nightclub when he’s grabbed by two giant, muscley men and hauled inside. For a minute, he considers trying to resist, but even Simon has more self-preservation skills than that.

He has no idea what the hell is going on, but it suddenly makes a lot of sense when he’s brought to one of the back rooms and is face-to-face with someone he would have happily avoided for the rest of eternity.

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally returned,” Camille says, smirking like she couldn’t be happier to see him. “I was wondering how long it would take you to find me.”

The two men still holding onto Simon him drag him across the room like he weighs nothing and hold him a few feet away from where Camille is standing. There are about 500 things that Simon wants to say to Camille right now, none of which will help diffuse the situation, but the first thing that comes flying out of his mouth is: “What are you doing? What have you got planned?”

“What makes you think I’m planning anything?”

“You’re clearly hiding here away from the rest of the clan for a reason,” Simon points out, gesturing with his head to their rather drab surroundings. “Plus, you didn’t have me sign that contract for nothing.”

“Oh, sweetie, I just wanted my freedom. And now I have it.” Camille flips her hair over her shoulder.

Simon knows bullshit when he hears it, and when the words are coming from Camille, it’s guaranteed to be nothing but garbage. But Simon had no intention of confronting her today, or any day, really, and he knows the longer he sticks around, the less likelihood there is of him getting out of this with all his limbs still intact.

“Well, in that case, have a nice life. I’m, uh, just gonna see myself out now, then, since you don’t need me,” Simon says, attempting to take a step backwards. Unfortunately he doesn’t get very far.

Camille smirks, and starts walking towards him. “I don’t think so. I can’t let you leave now. You’d just go running off to Raphael or those Shadowhunters.”

Simon shoots her his iciest glare, but doesn’t bother denying it. He tries to pull away from the goons who still have him in their grip, but he’s not strong enough to fight even one of them, let alone both.

“Besides,” Camille says, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “I’m sure Raphael will be along soon enough anyway. Especially if he thinks his little fledgeling is in danger.”

“Hey, Raphael has nothing to do with this. Leave him out of it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. This has as much to do with him as it does you. How do you think you were able to find me so easily?”

Which, shit… Simon should have known tracking Camille wouldn’t have been that easy.

“Fuck.” He takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the smug expression on Camille’s face. He’d like to slap it off her, but he’s a little tied up at the moment. “Look, do whatever the hell you want with me. I deserve it. But leave the rest of the clan out of it.”

Camille meets his gaze then, eyes cold and assessing. “Why do you even care? It’s not like Raphael wants anything to do with you anyway.”

“Because Raphael is taking much better care of the clan than you ever could. And if you try to do anything to him, I swear...” Simon trails off, letting the threat hang. 

It’s mostly empty, as far as threats go, and they both know this. Not due to lack of want, but rather to lack of ability. Simon doesn’t have the training or the skills to take out Camille. Which was why he never intended to confront her in the first place.

“Oh, that’s cute. Even after he put a kill order on your head, you’re still trying to protect him.” Camille laughs melodiously, but it sounds like nails on a chalkboard to Simon’s ears. “Makes me wonder what he did to inspire that kind of loyalty in you. Though based on some of our initial interactions, I do have a few guesses…”

Simon scowls, but ignores the bait. “Raphael has more integrity in his baby toe than you do in your entire body. He leads by example and by strength of character. Two things you clearly wouldn’t know anything about.”

“Well, aren’t you the feisty little one.” Camille comes to stand right in front of him, a cruel smile on her face. The only thing stopping him from lunging for her are the cronies who still have him pinned in place. “But I have better things to do than listen to you wax poetic about your _’leader’_.”

She laughs again, then motions to someone at his back. Simon has a sinking feeling that things are about to go from bad to worse, and he starts to struggle in earnest now.

“There’s no point in fighting. You won’t get away,” Camille says. “But don’t worry, I’ll tell Raphael that his little fledgeling fought for his honor to the bitter end.”

Simon barely has time to process her words before a blinding pain shoots down the back of his head and neck, and then everything goes black.

* * *

When Simon wakes up, it isn’t immediate. He hears before he sees anything, and the sounds coming from all around him don’t particularly inspire confidence. He rolls to one side and forces his eyes open. It takes a moment for his vision to clear, and when it does, he’s met with the unpleasant images of an all out vampire brawl right before his eyes.

It’s hard to tell who’s fighting who, and who’s on which side, but it seems like there are more clan members here than Camille and her little gang, at least. There’s also a lot of blood, which isn’t uncommon for vampire fights, but Simon can’t tell if this is a normal amount, or if there have been any casualties. He hopes not. The thought of it makes him physically sick to his stomach.

Simon sits up, holding his head for a moment while the world stops spinning. He looks around in an attempt to catalogue who’s here and fighting against Camille. Everything feels like a mad rush of movement and noise, filling all of Simon’s senses, but his sight eventually narrows in on his former leader and friend, and from that moment on, he can’t seem to focus on much else. 

He knows he’s not exactly in tip top fighting shape at the moment, but when Raphael gets thrown across the room and Camille lunges for him, Simon feels panic well up inside of him, and he knows that he can’t just sit here and do nothing while the clan gets attacked. He doesn’t know how they found him, or what they’re going to do once the fight with Camille is over, but regardless of anything, Simon can’t let the clan fight this battle alone.

Pushing onto his knees, with eyes still trained on Raphael and Camille fighting, Simon is about to stand up when he feels a hand push down on his shoulder, effectively holding him in place.

“Hey,” Lily says. “Stay down.’

“But you guys need my help,” Simon protests, trying and failing to shake her hand off his shoulder.

“No, we really don't. You're no good to us in the state you're in anyway.”

“I can't just do nothing!”

“Actually, you can. And you will.” She points a finger at him. “You’d be more of a liability right now than anything else. I refuse to deal with Raphael’s wrath if you get hurt.”

Simon blinks at her, uncertain how he’s supposed to take that tidbit of information. “This whole thing is happening because of me. I should be out there with you guys.”

“No, you absolutely shouldn’t be. And if you don’t want me to kill you on the spot, you will stay right where you are.”

Which, okay… Simon doesn’t know Lily all that well, but there is absolutely no doubt in his mind that she will follow through with that threat. Truthfully, she scares him far more than Raphael ever has.

“Fine, go. I’ll stay here,” Simon says. But Lily has already run back off to join the fight.

He hates that he’s stuck off to the side, watching the whole thing go down, and he can’t do a damn thing to help. Especially when it’s entirely his fault that Raphael and part of the clan are here fighting in the first place. What else is new, though? Simon seems to be the king of screwing up these days.

* * *

All things considered, the whole thing is actually over quite quickly. Simon doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how long they’d been fighting before he woke up. But what he does know is that he feels it the moment Camille dies, and it’s far more painful than he ever would have anticipated.

Simon clutches at his own chest and slumps against a wall, waiting for the pain to subside. He can hear Raphael giving orders to some of the clan, but his voice sounds far off, distant. Simon instinctively searches the area, trying to find him. 

Apparently he isn’t the only one trying to find someone.

“Simon!”

His head whips around to see Raphael stalking towards him. Something settles in Simon’s chest when he finally lays eyes on Raphael again.

For a split second, Simon thinks that maybe Raphael is going to try to hug him. That dream is shattered instantly, however, when Raphael grabs Simon by the front of his shirt and shoves him up against the wall at Simon’s back. He’s surprisingly gentle, though, for someone who looks about ready to rip Simon’s throat out.

“What. The hell. Was that?” Raphael growls, pressing one arm across Simon’s chest and effectively pinning him against the wall.

“Raphael, I--”

“Do you have a death wish? Is that it?”

“No, of course not. It’s not like--”

“How many times do I need to warn you about how dangerous Camille is before you actually listen to me? Por el amor de Dios, Simon!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but--”

“What is wrong with you? Why would you put yourself at risk like that? And alone too.” Raphael shoves Simon against the wall again and backs off, momentarily turning away from him. Simon is pretty sure he’s never seen Raphael this visibly angry before, even after he betrayed the clan. It leaves Simon feeling uneasy and off-kilter, because he doesn’t understand where the sudden rage is coming from, especially considering the fact that Raphael was the one who placed the kill order on his head in the first place. “Por todas las idioteces…”

“I just thought--”

“No! You didn’t think. You never think. That’s the problem.”

Raphael points a finger at Simon, stepping into his personal space once more, and Simon can already tell that he’s gearing up for a verbal lashing of some kind. In fairness to him, Simon probably does deserve whatever’s coming his way. But he can’t stand the idea of Raphael thinking the worst of him, especially in this particular situation.

“I did it for you, okay?” Simon blurts out, before he can stop himself.

It clearly isn’t what Raphael is expecting from him though, and the words seem to die instantly in his throat.

“What are you talking about?”

Simon swallows, and is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that they’re not alone, and haven’t been since this whole heated discussion started. “I wasn’t trying to get myself killed. I just wanted to find Camille.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought that if I could find her location, I could give it to you. I thought that maybe it would help, somehow. To show you how sorry I am for what I did, and how I’m trying to make amends.”

The anger in Raphael’s expression melts away into something a little softer. It only lasts for a moment, but it’s long enough for Simon to notice.

“So, this is how you try to make amends? By nearly getting yourself killed?”

“I would have been dead regardless,” Simon snaps, and tries to ignore the surprised look Raphael gives him in return. “At least I knew that if I died trying to do something for the clan, it would’ve been worth it. I can’t undo releasing Camille, but I had to do _something_ , okay?”

“Simon…”

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to hear the end of the sentence, as their conversation is interrupted by Lily.

“Raphael, what are we doing about Simon?”

Both Simon and Raphael turn to look at her, and Simon realizes then just how close they’re actually standing to one another. Raphael seems to have the same revelation as him, and instinctively takes a step back.

“What are you talking about?” Raphael eventually answers.

Lily’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead, and she frowns at him. “The kill order? On Simon?”

If Raphael forgot about any of it, he doesn’t let it show. “The kill order has been lifted from Simon,” he says, facing the clan members who are still there. 

It takes a moment for the words to actually register, but when they do, Simon nearly falls to the ground in relief. He manages to keep his composure, mostly out of fear that Raphael may renege the order if he’s reminded of Simon’s presence.

“What, since when?” someone calls from the back.

“Since now.” Raphael steps forward, looking and sounding every bit the leader Simon knows him to be. Any frustration he may have had with Simon is no long visible, even if he’s still feeling it.

“Simon risked himself and his safety for the clan and Camille has been dealt with. So, effective immediately, the order has been lifted. No one is to lay a hand on him, or they will have me to answer to. Do I make myself clear?”

A few members exchange furtive glances with one another, but everyone acknowledges the order without complaint or protest, much to Simon’s immense relief.

“Good. Thank you for your efforts today,” Raphael adds, as the clan presumably start making their way back to the hotel.

His attention returns to Simon again only once everyone else has clearly vacated the area.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Simon says, before Raphael can start laying into him again. “I truly am. For everything. I never-- this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go down.”

Raphael sighs. “I know. But what you did was incredibly foolish. It could have cost you your life.”

“But it didn’t.”

“Only because we got here in time, idiota.”

Which, actually reminds Simon of something that’s been on his mind since he woke up. “How did you even know I was here in the first place?”

“Magnus contacted me, told me that he thought you were going to do something stupid. And, knowing you, I figured he was probably right. So I had someone tail you,” Raphael admits, and if Simon’s not mistaken, he almost looks sheepish about it.

“But… what about the hit?” 

“I never wanted to issue it in the first place, but you left me no choice.” Raphael shakes his head, and steps closer to Simon. “You’re an idiot who needs to check his priorities and get his head out of Shadowhunter asses. But your actions weren’t worthy of death.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Raphael gives him a look like he thinks Simon is incredibly stupid. He’s probably right. 

“Because the clan looks to me for justice. I couldn’t just let you get away without punishment. It would have made me look weak, and the last thing I can be right now is weak.”

Simon swallows thickly, feeling more than a little distracted by their close proximity. For reasons he can’t quite explain, Simon finds himself desperate to reach out and touch Raphael, as if that will somehow solve things. Except it won’t. So he clenches his fist at his side and wills the urge away instead.

“But Camille’s dead. And I’m no longer under a kill order,” Simon says, hope fluttering back into him at that memory. “So does that mean I can come back to the DuMort?”

Raphael sighs, and he suddenly looks exhausted and well beyond his years. “It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s not up to me if you come back.”

“Of course it is. That’s, like, the role of the leader. To make those decisions.”

Raphael shakes his head, and briefly grabs onto Simon’s arm as they start to walk. “And like I said before, it’s not that simple. It’s barely been a month. Do you expect everyone to just forgive you and forget what happened? How you put us all at risk?”

Simon cringes, ducking his head. “No, of course not. But, I thought maybe--”

“I have to put the clan first, Simon. And they’re going to need some time.”

“Yeah, okay. I get that.” And he does, much as he may not like it.

“I won’t make false promises to you. I will go with whatever the clan decides. But for now you need to be patient and stay where you are.”

It’s honestly sounding a lot more hopeful than he was even expecting, so Simon’s happy to endure whatever else he needs to, if it means he may one day be able to return.

“I can do that. Assuming they don’t stake me at the Institute before then, though.” He casts a sidelong glance at Raphael and risks a grin. “It honestly seems more and more likely with every day that I’m there.”

A hint of a smile crosses Raphael’s face for a moment, and the sight does something to Simon’s heart. “I’m surprised they’ve managed to put up with you as long as they have, to be honest.”

“Hey, I’m a delight.”

Raphael rolls his eyes, but Simon can see the fondness that he isn’t even bothering to hide. Maybe there is still a chance to fix things between them after all. It’s a comforting thought. When they part ways a few minutes later, Simon is feeling more hopeful than he has in a long time.

* * *

Not much changes immediately after the fight with Camille. Simon’s still confined to the Institute, at least during the day, and everyone is still trying to deal with the Valentine threat. Simon sees less of Clary and Izzy and Alec these days, and when he does, they all look beyond exhausted. So most of his interactions with them tend to be more in passing than anything else.

But Raphael has started talking to him again. It’s nothing major, mostly just replies to Simon’s texts that sound anywhere from angry at worst, to fondly exasperated at best. But Simon knows Raphael well enough to know that if he was actually annoyed by Simon’s texting, he just wouldn’t respond at all. So, it’s small, but it feels like progress.

* * *

A week later, Simon comes up with a bit of a plan. It’s not necessarily the most brilliant idea he’s ever had, but that’s never stopped him before, so why would he let it now? Despite the thought tumbling around his brain and formulating into an actual strategy, it takes Simon almost another full week to muster up the courage to talk to Raphael about it.

Simon sits curled up on his bed at the Institute, staring down at his phone. He quickly rereads the text that he’s rewritten no less than 10 separate times, before finally deciding it’s as good as it’s ever going to get, and hits send.

_**To: Raphael (1:22 am)**  
Hey, so I’ve been training here, but there’s only so much I can do on my own. I was wondering if maybe you’d be willing to allow me to train with you again? You could come here? I asked Alec about it, and he agreed to let us use a training space. Or we could meet on neutral ground somewhere? Let me know what you think. -S_

The time it takes for Raphael to respond feels like hours. Simon checks his e-mail no less than 6 times and tries to play Game of War on his phone before giving up on it. Concentration is not his strongest suit at the best of times, let alone when he’s anxious with anticipation. 

A few minutes later, when a response finally comes through, the alert notification actually makes Simon jump out of his skin. He fumbles with the phone twice before opening up his text messages.

_**From: Raphael (1:31 am)**  
not at the institute. too risky._

Well, it wasn’t an outright no, which Simon appreciates. Hope flutters in his chest as he reads and then rereads the response, making sure he actually read it right.

_**To: Raphael (1:33 am)**  
Yeah, okay, fair enough. We can train wherever you want. Does that mean you’ll do it...?_

_**From: Raphael (1:34 am)**  
i don’t know. what’s in it for me?_

Simon contemplates for a moment, before typing out a reply.

_**To: Raphael (1:36 am)**  
You can teach me about fashion and take me shopping for clothes?_

_**From: Raphael (1:37 am)**  
that sounds like it would benefit you far more than it would benefit me._

Simon smirks at the reply. He can actually feel the sarcasm oozing through the phone. Swallowing down a burst of almost hysterical laughter, Simon’s fingers fly across his phone screen as he types his own response.

_**To: Raphael (1:39 am)**  
You love fashion, don’t lie. I promise I’ll even try to stay awake while you’re teaching me things. And as an added bonus, I’ll let you style my hair however you want?_

He’s mostly talking shit now, but Raphael’s engaging him, and it’s honestly the happiest he’s felt in awhile, so he doesn’t care how ridiculous he’s being. Even if Raphael ends up turning him down, this conversation has already made his week significantly better. Which, actually, is kind of sad, if he thinks too much about it. (So, he won’t. Sometimes it’s the little things in life one has to learn to appreciate.)

_**From: Raphael (1:42 am)**  
you clearly have never engaged in the art of negotiation before._

_**To: Raphael (1:44 am)**  
And yet, you haven’t said no. So I can’t be that bad._

This time, Raphael’s response doesn’t come right away. And after a few minutes, Simon starts to worry that maybe he pushed things a little too far. He rereads the conversation several times, but can’t figure out where he might have gone wrong. Simon is in the process of typing an apology text, telling Raphael that he doesn’t have to worry about it and that he’ll fend for himself, when his phone chimes and another message pops up on his screen.

_**From: Raphael (1:56 am)**  
you drive a hard bargain… i should say no. but i promised i would watch out for you, so i will._

Simon lets out a whoop of joy, then immediately covers his mouth and glances around, hoping no one heard him. It may not be for the reasons Simon was hoping, but it’s good progress regardless, and he certainly won’t turn down the opportunity. This could be just what he needs.

* * *

Two nights later, Simon finds himself standing outside of the DuMort for the first time in months. Raphael had outright refused to set foot in the Institute for their training, and truthfully, Simon can’t really blame him. Especially given what had happened the last time he’d been in contact with Shadowhunters. Simon had been somewhat reluctant to come to the hotel, but Raphael had assured him it would be fine. And he trusts Raphael.

“What are you doing?” A voice asks from behind him, and Simon jumps, letting out a very manly squeal as he presses a hand to his chest.

“Holy shit, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“How many times do we need to go over this? You can’t have a heart attack when your heart is already dead.”

Raphael smirks at him, clearly pleased with himself. It’s kind of endearing, actually; Simon can’t really find it in himself to be upset about it.

“You’ve been standing here for almost 10 minutes. Are you waiting for an invitation?”

Simon stares at Raphael, not sure if he’s being serious or not.

“Because you know that’s not actually a real thing, right? Despite what Buffy would have you believe.”

Simon blinks and scans the walls of the DuMort for security cameras or something similar. Are they being recorded? Is he being punked? Is this some sort of elaborate dream? Because there’s no way those words just came out of Raphael’s mouth. He hasn’t made a reference to anything in pop culture past the 1980’s, and yet here he is, talking about Buffy the fucking Vampire Slayer.

“Oh my G--, who are you and what have you done with the real Raphael?”

Raphael rolls his eyes.

“No! You don’t understand. I just found out you’ve seen _Buffy_. Do you have any idea how amazing that is?”

Raphael furrows his eyebrows judgmentally at Simon and shakes his head. “Increible! Come on, you’re already late. We have more important things to focus on. Are you here to train or to talk about 90’s television?”

“Well, now that I know you’ve actually _watched_ 90’s TV shows, I’m kind of expecting both, to be honest,” Simon says, but he follows dutifully after Raphael anyway.

* * *

Overall, training goes well. Raphael pushes Simon harder than he ever had before, but Simon likes feeling like he’s finally accomplishing something for once. At first, there isn’t much talking outside of the actual training session, both too focused on what they’re doing. But as more time passes, and Raphael and Simon start reestablishing the banter that used to exist between them, the silence starts to melt away into actual discussion and joking around. 

Sometimes Simon updates Raphael on what’s going on at the Institute, sometimes he tells Raphael about the latest TV show he started watching on Netflix (spoiler alert: Raphael apparently doesn’t really care, but he still listens to every single thing Simon has to say about it). But most of the time he asks Raphael about vampire business and his life. Raphael is surprisingly open about his past, when he finally does start to open up, and Simon eats up every morsel of information Raphael is willing to offer him.

One night, a good two weeks into their new training routine, Simon gets so absorbed in a discussion about the worst vampire movies ever made that he completely loses track of the time.

“Oh, shit, I should get going,” Simon says, when he finally catches a glimpse of the time.

Raphael glances over at the clock on the wall and startles. “Dios, the sun is going to rise in the next 15 minutes. There’s no way you have time to get back to the Institute.”

“I know a shortcut,” Simon says as he hurriedly packs up his stuff. “It’ll take me like 9 minutes to get back, tops.”

“Simon, no. It’s too risky.”

“I have to. I promised Clary I’d be back. She’ll kill me if I’m not there.”

“And you’ll be dead anyway if you get caught in the sun,” Raphael says, frowning heavily.

Simon appreciates the concern, he truly does. But he needs to do this; he’ll be totally fine. “Raph, it’ll be okay,” he says, reaching out to pat Raphael on the arm. “I promise. But I need to leave, like, _right now_.”

And before Raphael even has the chance to protest, Simon makes a run for it.

Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t taken the shortcut to the Institute in awhile, and the extreme time crunch adds pressure to his already fragmented memory. Which means that instead of making it back in time, he manages to get himself partially lost instead. And by the time he’s figured out where he is again, he’s got a little less than 5 minutes to make the now minimum 7 minute journey back to the Institute.

Simon glances up and down the street he’s currently on, managing to find an open coffee shop in the nick of time. He rushes in and makes his way to the front counter, digging around in his wallet until he scrounges up enough change to buy something that will prevent him from being kicked out.

Once Simon’s ordered a large black coffee and tucked himself in a corner booth far away from any windows, he contemplates his options. He clearly can’t stay in this coffee shop all day long, but he also can’t exactly leave it at this point either. If he calls Raphael, he knows that Raphael will probably want to strangle him with his bare hands. Clary will be angry with him too, but she’ll at least wait to kill him until he’s safe again. That being said, he’s not sure what Clary would be able to do to help him, since it’s not like there’s some underground tunnel that they can access. What he really needs is some way to transport himself out of here. Which, naturally, leads Simon back to his good pal, Magnus.

Simon pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts until he finds the number he needs. It rings three times before Magnus picks up on the other end.

“Hello, Samuel, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? And by that I mean you’d better be telling me that you’re dying or dead if you’re calling me at this ungodly hour.”

Which, oops? He’d sort of forgotten how early it was, and that not everyone sleeps during the day. Simon’s amazed that Magnus even answered his phone call at all, to be honest.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t realize the time.”

“What happened?”

“Uh, so, I may have done something stupid and I need your help?”

There’s a long pause, followed by a heavy sigh. “Why am I not surprised? What did you do this time, buttercup?”

Simon closes his eyes and tries to remember that this is all worth it in the end if he’s able to survive the day. “I kind of left my training session with Raphael a little too late, and then I got lost on the way back to the Institute, and now I’m trapped in a coffee shop on 4th Street because I can’t go outside in the sun?”

This time, the faint sound of laughter filters through the line, and Simon feels a jolt of optimism at the sound. “Of course you did.”

Magnus requests Simon’s location and indicates that he’ll be there within the hour. In the meantime Simon texts Clary, and then pretends to drink the coffee he ordered.

* * *

As indicated, Magnus shows up at the coffee shop approximately 45 minutes later. Simon is so grateful that he doesn’t even know what to say. Which leads to mostly incoherent rambling that may vaguely resemble thanks.

“While I appreciate the gratitude, Solomon, you should know I’m not doing this for you,” Magnus says. Simon has no idea what that means, but he doesn't care, as long as Magnus helps him make it out of here alive.

Thankfully the coffee shop is still relatively empty at this early hour of the morning. Even still, Magnus insists on creating a small distraction in the back room anyway, and as soon as the serving staff have turned their attention towards said distraction, Magnus pulls up a portal and immediately shoves Simon through.

He’s expecting to arrive at the Institute, but that’s not where they end up. No. It turns out that Magnus brought him back to the DuMort instead. Specifically, to Raphael, who looks less than impressed.

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you today?” Raphael asks with a heavy sigh. “Do you actually have a death wish, though? Because sometimes I really have to wonder.”

Simon turns to Magnus, betrayed, since it’s obvious that Raphael knows exactly what happened and who filled him in. “Why do you always tell him everything?”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “If you need me to tell you that, you don’t deserve to know.”

“Simon,” Raphael says, drawing Simon’s attention back to him. “What happened?”

“I accidentally took a wrong turn and got kinda lost,” Simon says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “By the time I figured out where I was, there wasn’t enough time to make it back to the Institute.”

“So you found a coffee shop. Which was fortunate. But what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been able to find shelter?”

Simon groans and tugs at his hair. “Look, I know I fucked up okay? I’m the king of fucking up, apparently. I should have listened to you, is that what you want me to say? You always know what’s best?”

“No!” Raphael says, the vehemence in his voice startling Simon. When he speaks again, though, his tone is considerably more gentle. “I want you to value your life as much as your family and friends do. I want you to stop taking stupid, unnecessary risks all the time. And I want you to remember that just because you’re immortal doesn’t mean you can’t still die.”

Any frustration Simon was feeling melts away at Raphael’s words. He knew, in some wild part at the back of his brain, that Raphael cared in some capacity about Simon, in spite of everything. But this is the first time he’s ever shown it to Simon.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You should move back to the hotel. This is where you belong,” Raphael says, and it’s literally the last thing Simon was expecting to hear.

“What? But I thought you said you needed to talk to the clan?”

“I already did. And they’re fine with it. At least on a trial basis,” he amends.

Simon stares at him, mouth hanging partially open. For once, he’s actually speechless. Who would have ever thought?

“Unless you don’t want to?” Raphael asks carefully, like it’s just occurred to him that Simon might not actually want that after all.

But Simon is having absolutely none of that. “Oh my G-- yes. Of course. Of course I’ll move back. As long as you’re sure.”

Raphael gestures at Magnus instead of answering. “Magnus will take you back to the Institute. I’ll send Stan by this evening to help you with your stuff.”

Simon wants nothing more than to wrap Raphael up in a hug, but he’s certainly not going to mess up this opportunity.

“All right, Sherwin, it’s time to go,” Magnus announces, and creates a portal before he even has time to say anything.

It doesn’t matter though, because Simon couldn’t be happier. His mood remains high, even when Clary yells at him for being so reckless, once she finds out what happened.

* * *

Just as he promised, Raphael sends Stan to the Institute that evening to help Simon move his things back to the DuMort. Everyone is out tracking down a lead on Jace at the time, but it actually makes the whole process easier. Simon had told Clary and Izzy earlier that he was going back to the DuMort, so they would at least know why he wasn’t there when they returned.

Much to his surprise, Raphael is actually waiting for Simon in his old room at the DuMort when he gets there. It takes a moment for Simon to even realize he’s there, since he’s skulking creepily in a corner.

“Thanks, Stan, you can just leave that box there,” Simon says, putting his own box down on the floor by the bed. Stan nods and puts it down by the door and quietly slips out of the room.

“Raphael, what are you doing here? Are you part of the welcoming committee?” Simon asks with a smirk.

Raphael makes his way over to Simon. “Not exactly.”

A twinge of anxiety hits Simon. What if Raphael’s changed his mind? Or what if the clan changed their mind and Raphael was having difficulties just coming out with it?

“Should I be worried?”

Raphael shakes his head. “No, not at all. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be away for the next few days on business. I’ll admit that the timing isn’t fantastic, but unfortunately there isn’t much I can do about it.”

In truth, that knowledge makes Simon feel slightly uneasy. Raphael always has his back, but who knows what the clan might do if he isn’t around to defend Simon against them?

“You don’t need to worry about the clan,” Raphael says, as if he’d been able to read Simon’s mind. “You’re safe here. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Yeah, all right, thanks. I understand.”

“You can use this time to rest up and get reacquainted with the clan. If anyone gives you any difficulties while I’m gone, let Lily know, and she’ll deal with it,” Raphael says, reaching out to touch Simon’s arm. It’s oddly reassuring, and Simon takes comfort in it. “We’ll start back up with training again once I get back.”

“Thanks, Raphael. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Raphael smirks at him, clearly amused. “Oh, I have no doubt about that.”

He heads for the door, presumably to leave Simon to his unpacking. But just before he leaves, Raphael turns back to look at Simon. “Welcome home.”

Simon feels a smile tug at his lips as Raphael makes his way out of the room.

* * *

Raphael leaves the hotel a few hours later.

That morning, shortly after Simon falls asleep for the day, he wakes up screaming from the first nightmare he’s had in weeks. His distress increases significantly when he remembers that Raphael is away, and no one is coming to check in on him.

It takes Simon a good hour to calm down, but he doesn’t allow himself to fall back asleep again.

* * *

Unfortunately, it isn’t just a one time event, and Simon is woken up by his own screams the next day as well. 

On the third day, Stan comes rushing into his room in a panic, followed by several others.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“We could hear you all the way down in the other wing.”

Simon groans and covers his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, it was just a nightmare,” he admits.

“All that for a nightmare?” Jacob, one of the vampires who doesn’t particularly like Simon, says. 

Someone else elbows him, but Simon barely notices. He’s still coming down from the horror of his dream, and now that he has an audience, he really wishes he could crawl into a hole and die from the embarrassment of it all.

“I didn’t mean to wake you all. I’m fine. Sorry. You can go back to sleep now.”

Stan is the only one who double checks that he’s okay before leaving.

Simon decides in that moment that he needs to do something about this whole nightmare thing once and for all.

* * *

It’s not that he’s purposely hiding the fact that he’s trying not to sleep. It’s just that Simon doesn’t want to announce it to the world. The clan isn’t exactly ignoring him, but he’s still not on great terms with everyone either, and the last thing he wants to do is piss anyone off with his screaming.

So, not sleeping seems like the most reasonable option. Simon doesn’t have nightmares, he doesn’t wake everyone else up, and it helps to keep the peace. All in all, the best thing for everyone involved.

Of course, Simon also forgets that while most of the clan doesn’t pay him much attention, there’s at least one person who does…

Raphael returns to the DuMort five days after he left (and two days into Simon’s brilliant plan to deal with his nightmares without stressing out the rest of the clan). Of course, Raphael being Raphael, he insists on getting back into the swing of things immediately, which includes training. He isn’t overly talkative about the conference he went to, but it sounds like things went well, so Simon doesn’t push.

They’re in the middle of their daily training, Raphael pushing him particularly hard, when he takes Simon down to the ground for the fourth consecutive time in a row. It’s not uncommon for Raphael to overpower Simon, but Simon has made a lot of progress since he started working with Raphael again. They’ve been training non-stop for weeks now, and Simon knows he shouldn’t be taken out this easily. Especially not in such a short period of time. Unfortunately, so does Raphael.

“Dios, Simon. What the hell is going on with you today?” Raphael says, frowning down at him as he brushes some imaginary lint off his shoulder.

“I’m fine. Just having an off day.” Simon says, and pushes up off the ground.

“You’ve been having more than just an off day. It’s only been five days since our last training session. You shouldn’t be this out of it.”

“Let’s go again. I’ll get it this time,” Simon says, gestures at Raphael to come at him again.

Raphael continues to stare instead. “I doubt that. Your concentration is atrocious. Your form is appalling. You were more in control when you were a baby fledgling.”

Simon sighs and ducks his head, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing. I’m just... a little tired.”

“Why?”

“I’m not--” Simon starts, then stops, unsure how to continue without revealing what he’s doing. “I’m just having a hard time sleeping,” is what he eventually decides on.

Raphael’s expression shifts, softening for a moment. “Are you still having nightmares? I thought you said they’d gone away?”

“I thought they had. I mean, they had. And then… not so much.”

Raphael raises his eyebrows. “So, you _are_ having nightmares again?”

“I… yes? I mean, yeah. I have been.” Simon shuffles in place, quietly adding, “Not the last couple days, though.”

“So why haven’t you been sleeping then?”

When Simon glances up, he sees that Raphael has moved closer to him, a frown still on his face. But his expression is concerned, and Simon doesn’t like it. He feels a little like he’s under a microscope and has no idea how to get out of this conversation without churning out a lie or seven. And after everything he’s already done to Raphael, Simon knows he can’t start lying now if he wants any chance of fixing their still tenuous relationship and staying on with the clan.

“Because I’ve been purposely staying awake instead,” Simon finally admits.

“Dios, dame la fuerza para lidiar con este,” Raphael mutters to the ceiling before turning the full force of his attention back to Simon. “You need to sleep. Just because you’re undead doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

Simon sighs and ducks his head. “I know.” 

What he doesn’t add is that the thought of having a nightmare itself isn’t so unbearable when he knows that Raphael will be there to talk him through it. But now that he’s on his own, it feels like too much for him to handle on his own. And he doesn’t want to piss off the rest of the clan when he’s just been allowed to return. So it feels like the best solution, at least for now.

“Well, we’re not going to be able to get much else accomplished today,” Raphael says after a long pause. “So we might as well call it a day.”

Simon nods, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah. Um, sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

It doesn’t really sound fine, but Simon’s not going to argue. Truthfully, he doesn’t have the energy for it anyway. 

Raphael sighs and reaches out to touch Simon’s shoulder. It’s firm, but reassuring in that way that he has about himself. “As I said, we vampires take care of each other. But we also have to try to take care of ourselves too. Remember that.”

And with that, Raphael leaves Simon in the training room to his thoughts.

* * *

About an hour after sunrise, there’s a knock on Simon’s door. It’s a little startling, since he isn’t expecting anyone, and most of the rest of the clan is usually sleeping by now.

Pausing the movie he’s watching on his laptop, Simon hops up from the bed and makes his way to the door. “Yeah, come in.”

He isn’t expecting the person on the other side.

“Raphael, what are you doing here?”

Raphael raises an eyebrow. “I see you’re still awake.”

He glances around the room, clearly searching for something. Simon doesn’t know what it is, but he backs out of the way anyway.

“I was just about to head to bed,” Simon says. Which is stupid, since they both know he’s full of it. Raphael doesn’t call him on it, though.

“Well, there’s been a change of plans.”

“A change of plans?”

Raphael gestures towards the door. “Yes. You’re coming with me.”

Now it’s Simon’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Let’s go.”

He turns on his heels and marches out of the room, brokering no room for argument. So Simon does the only thing he can do. He follows Raphael.

It turns out their little field trip doesn’t take very long, and Simon blinks in confusion when he realizes where they are.

“We’re in your bedroom.”

Raphael snorts, rolling his eyes. “Perceptive as always, I see.”

Which… rude. He’s been in Raphael’s room before, but it’s been awhile. And he’s redecorated since the last time Simon was here.

“Okay, let me rephrase that. _Why_ are we in your room?” Not for the first time, Simon finds himself wondering what the hell is going on. It seems to be commonplace with Raphael though.

“Because you need to sleep,” Raphael says, like that explains everything.

He disappears into his walk-in closet while Simon takes the opportunity to eye up the room. It looks better than the last time he’d been in here, though he’d been so focused on finding something to wear for Alec’s wedding that he hadn’t noticed much of anything to begin with. The decor is classy and elegant, not too flashy, but certainly consistent with Raphael’s more expensive tastes. There’s a gold coffin ( _casket_ , Simon reminds himself) with royal blue lining in one corner of the room, and a king sized four-poster bed with a gold, silver and blue canopy in the middle. 

Simon’s busy admiring the artwork on the walls when he feels something soft hit the side of his head.

“What the heck?”

“Put those on,” Raphael says, pointing at the clothes that are lying on the floor at Simon’s feet. “You’re staying here tonight.”

Simon gapes at Raphael. “ _What_?”

“You need your sleep,” Raphael says again.

Simon has no idea what the hell is happening, but he knows better than to argue. So he starts to change into the clothes Raphael gave him, overly aware of the fact that he’s not alone in the room. But when he glances over his shoulder, he sees that Raphael has stepped into the bathroom, giving Simon the privacy he needs.

Once he’s done changing, he stands awkwardly beside the bed until Raphael emerges from the bathroom.

“Look, you need sleep, and you’re clearly not going to get that on your own,’ Raphael finally says. “But until your nightmares are under control again, that’s going to be a challenge for everyone.”

“So, you want me to, what-- sleep here?”

“Yes. I can wake you up if you start having a nightmare,” Raphael says, like it’s just that simple.

“Won’t that be incredibly inconvenient for you?”

“Do you have any other ideas? That don’t involve you staying awake until you collapse somewhere and die? Again.”

Simon blinks. Which okay, fair enough. “Not really,” he admits.

“All right. Then it’s settled.”

It sounds pretty final to Simon’s ears, so he decides not to put up an argument. Besides, there are certainly worse places he could be right now than lying in Raphael Santiago’s bed.

“So,” Simon says, after a good minute has passed and he realizes that there are still a few details they haven’t quite worked out yet. “Does that mean that you’re gonna, uh, sleep…” Simon gestures towards the bed, the words sticking in his throat.

Raphael rolls his eyes. “No. I’ll sleep in my casket.”

Simon’s gaze follows Raphael’s hand towards said casket. “That’s actually kind of creepy.”

Raphael levels a glare at him. “We’re vampires, Simon. It’s not creepy, it’s practical.”

“Then why do you have a bed?”

Instead of answering, Raphael turns towards the casket. But the thought of sleeping in the same room as someone in a casket freaks Simon out. He knows he’s a vampire now, knows he needs to get used to this at some point. And he has been learning and adjusting. But the time to adapt is not now, and it’s sure as hell not going to help quell the nightmares he’s been having recently.

“Wait. Raphael.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but like… could you maybe sleep here with me? Not _with_ me, with me obviously, but like in the bed. With me also in the bed. ‘Cause, uh, I haven’t quite adjusted to the whole coffin thing yet--” Or the whole vampire thing, really, but he’s not going to say that. At least he’s working on it. 

The look Raphael gives him makes Simon’s cheeks heat, but he tries to push it down in favor of getting this out before he dies of embarrassment. “I just, I mean I’d feel better. If you were beside me.” _Jesus Christ, Simon, get it together,_ he thinks, cringing internally at his poor choice of words. “Like, not sleeping in the coffin. Plus, the bed is huge, and you won’t have to travel so far to wake me up if you’re right next to me?”

Raphael shakes his head like Simon is completely ridiculous, but Simon catches just the slightest uptick of the corner of his mouth in what might be the beginnings of a smile. So he figures he’ll take it.

“Dios. All right, fine. I’ll sleep in the bed too,” Raphael says. 

He moves around to the other side of the bed, but stops before pulling back the covers, a look of concern suddenly crossing his features. “As long as you’re sure you’re okay with this whole arrangement. You don’t have to do anything just because I said so. I may be the clan leader, but I would never use that to my advantage.”

Simon honestly doesn’t know what he did to deserve Raphael, but he vows with every fiber of his being to never take advantage of or hurt him again. He fucked up royally, and here Raphael is, sacrificing himself for Simon’s benefit yet again. Simon has to push down the sudden urge to apologize again, despite the fact that Raphael has already forgiven him.

“I know, Raphael. It’s okay.” _I trust you_ , is what he thinks, but doesn’t say. Truthfully, he’s not ready to hear Raphael’s response to that comment just yet anyway.

“All right, then it’s settled,” Raphael says, climbing into the other side of the bed. Once he’s settled and the lights have been turned off, he turns his head towards Simon. “Good night.”

Simon glances over at Raphael before closing his eyes. “Good night.”

Despite being comfortable and feeling safer than he has in a long time, it still takes Simon a long time to fall asleep.

* * *

Simon doesn’t dream that day. And it’s the best sleep he’s had in months, once he finally managed to drift off. So even though he wakes up to find Raphael’s side of the bed empty, he doesn’t let it get to him. One good night’s sleep is better than Simon has had in a long time, so he’ll take whatever he can get.

Business carries on as normal around the DuMort that evening. He drinks blood, sends a few texts to Clary, trains with Raphael, and unsuccessfully attempts to charm some of the rest of the clan into liking him again. Raphael, for his part, doesn’t act as if anything had changed at all. If Simon didn’t know any better, he’d almost think that he imagined the whole encounter with Raphael. Maybe _that_ was his nightmare? Except it didn’t feel like a nightmare -- quite the opposite, in fact -- and Simon’s self-aware enough to admit that, at least.

He’s too busy throughout the night to dwell much on it, thankfully. Still, the last thing Simon expects at dawn is a knock on his door.

“Raphael is requesting your presence.”

Simon’s eyebrows climb up his forehead, but the messenger boy doesn’t stand around long enough to provide an explanation. With a shrug, Simon heads for Raphael’s chambers. Might as well get this over and done with as soon as possible.

“What’s up?” Simon asks. The door is open, so he assumes it’s an invitation to come right in.

Raphael’s already in his pajamas, or at least what Raphael considers pajamas, consisting of a designer tracksuit of some kind. The outfit looks like it cost more than Simon’s house, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it actually did. Raphael’s hair is clean of product, sitting in curly tufts on the top of his head, and Simon feels momentary surprise at the sight, despite having seen his natural hair more than once. It suits him. Honestly, he looks like a male model, and it’s far more attractive than Simon would care to admit.

“Where have you been?” Raphael says, in lieu of a greeting. 

“Uh… in my room?”

“I thought we agreed that you’d be sleeping here for the foreseeable future.”

“Did we?” Simon feels like he probably would have remembered a conversation like that. “I’m pretty sure that didn’t actually happen.”

“It was implied.”

“Dude,” Simon huffs, dragging out the vowel sound for a beat too long, and Raphael rolls his eyes.

“I’m seriously starting to question my judgment here.”

It’s probably a good call. Especially when it comes to Simon.

“I guess I just assumed spending the night was going to be a one time thing.” It sounds dirtier than he’d intended, and Simon cringes, throwing an embarrassed smirk Raphael’s way.

Raphael raises his eyebrows at Simon in that snarky, judgey way he has about him. “Have your nightmares inexplicably vanished since yesterday?”

“I don’t-- I mean, probably not. I haven’t exactly been able to check.”

“Well then I guess you have a choice. You can sleep here,” Raphael gestures at the bed, then at the door. “Or, you can go back to your own room and either attempt to sleep or stay awake all day again. It’s your call.”

Simon really doesn’t want to stay up another day. Now that he’s had a taste of sleep again, he wants more of it. Plus, it’s not like it was awkward or difficult to sleep beside Raphael yesterday. The fact that he’s even offering to keep this up means a lot to Simon, and he wants Raphael to know that he appreciates it.

“Okay, fine, I’ll stay here,” Simon says with a nod. “As long as you don’t sleep in the coffin.”

Raphael rolls his eyes, but he smiles. “Whatever you want.”

* * *

From that point on, they start to fall into a routine of sorts.

They train together, discuss and attend to vampire business, and generally continue with the snarking throughout the evening. Sometime Simon goes out with his friends, particularly when things start getting out of hand with Valentine. But, aside from one morning when he was out too long and wound up trapped at the Institute for the day, and one time that Raphael went away on a two day conference, Simon almost exclusively sleeps in Raphael’s bed.

In the first week, Raphael had mentioned sleeping in his casket once or twice, but since then he hasn’t even attempted to broach the topic, simply climbing into bed with Simon every day. Sometimes Simon wakes with a start to find Raphael leaning over him, and they quietly talk until Simon’s calmed down enough to go back to sleep. Other days, Simon sleeps soundly all day, and wakes feeling rested and refreshed. It should be awkward or weird, but it’s surprisingly not. Most evenings Raphael is already awake by the time Simon rouses, but he never goes far, “just in case.”

The thing that throws him, though, is the newfound intimacy between them that Simon has honestly never experienced before. Simon’s always been a touchy-feely type of person, but Raphael reciprocates that with the same intensity as Simon. He’s always touching Simon, whether it’s a guiding hand to his lower back, a friendly shoulder squeeze, or a tug on his arm when he wants Simon to do something or go somewhere with him. He’s not sure if the rest of the clan has noticed, but he certainly has. Especially since Raphael is generally hands-off with the rest of the clan. Then there’s the way that Raphael looks to Simon whenever he makes an important comment or even a joke, like Simon’s opinion somehow matters more.

It feels a little bit like a relationship, if he’s being honest, and he isn’t sure what to do with that, because it’s technically not. Simon would be lying if he claimed he’d never thought about it before. The better he got to know Raphael, the more he realized how similar they were, how compatible. Raphael was like the opposite of Clary in virtually every way, and yet he and Simon meshed just as well, if not better. 

Still, from what he’s been able to gather by talking to Lily and Stan, Raphael hasn’t been in a relationship with anyone for decades, if at all, as far as they can remember. Which leaves Simon wondering where he stands, and what -- if anything -- he should do about it.

* * *

Simon’s been back living at the DuMort for well over a month before he and Clary actually find time to hang out again. They’ve never gone more than a week between hanging out before, but, well… circumstances being what they are, Simon’s just glad they’re still able to hang out at all. Things were a bit hectic after Jace came back, and then again after the shadow world finally dealt with Valentine. Now that the metaphorical dust had settled somewhat, it felt like the right time to have a friendship night. And Simon’s glad, because he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Clary until they actually had the chance to hang out again.

“Oh my god, why has it taken us so long to do this again?” Clary asks before stuffing another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Simon scrunches his nose up at her. “Hmm, I don’t know. Might have something to do with the whole ‘you found out you’re a Shadowhunter and I turned into a vampire and betrayed my whole clan and then you had to fight your corrupt Shadowhunter father and rescue Jace from his clutches’ thing. But maybe I’m reaching.”

Clary rolls her eyes and swats him on the shoulder. Things are still a little tense between Jace and Clary, despite learning that they are not, in fact, related after all. But for the most part, they seem to be dealing with everything as well as can be expected, so Simon doesn’t feel too weird about bringing him up.

“Geez, Simon, you’re ridiculous. But you do have a point. Either way, we need to make sure we do this more than once every other month, because that’s just too long.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Simon smiles and returns his attention to the movie. 

To be honest, he’s not even really sure what they’re watching any more. All he knows is that The Terminator was on at one point. But they’ve spent more of the last few hours talking than actually watching, so who can say for sure. It doesn’t matter though. Simon could be sitting quietly in a room with Clary and still be having fun. There’s a reason she’s his best friend and has been for all these years.

A few minutes of silence pass before: “Uh oh, we’re out of popcorn.”

Simon glances down at the empty bowl sitting between them before hopping off the couch. “I’ll make some more.”

Even though he can’t actually eat it, it’s nice to just have a bowl of popcorn on the couch between them, like old times. It makes Simon feel like they’re still just normal, ordinary best friends Clary and Simon, instead of supernatural creatures Clary and Simon. 

Several of the clan members are still awake, despite the fact that it’s just past dawn, and one of them even says hi to Simon as he heads for the kitchen. Simon appreciates the fact that they seem to be giving him more of a chance these days. He’s not sure what changed, but he’s definitely not complaining.

Simon makes another bowl of popcorn, grabs a drink for both himself and Clary, and heads back to the small lounge they’ve taken over for their visit.

“Hey, what did I miss?” Simon asks as he bounds back into the lounge.

But the only sound that greets him is the movie playing in the background. Clary doesn’t seem to hear him, or even notice he came back in the room. Her head is bent over something on the couch, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.

His steps slow as he makes his way further into the room. “...Clary?”

“Oh my _god_ , Simon,” she says finally, turning her wide-eyed expression on him. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

Clary holds up a phone -- his phone, as it turns out -- and shakes it in his general direction. “I didn’t mean to pry. Honestly I didn’t. I just happened to glance down when the message came in and I thought it was weird that you’d be getting a message from anyone at this hour, and then suddenly I was reading it because it was _right there_ , and _oh my god_ , I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

To say he’s confused would be an understatement. Simon has absolutely no idea what Clary is rambling about, but he suspects he’s not going to be able to easily get out of whatever it is. Simon puts down the drinks and the popcorn on the coffee table and sits down across from Clary.

“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about here.”

Clary holds out his phone, a look of embarrassment crossing her face as he takes it from her.

They say ignorance is bliss, and for at least the twentieth time in the past six months, Simon understands why.

There’s only one new text on his phone, but even if there had been 300, Simon knows that this particular one would’ve been the one she saw. Because of course.

_**From: Raphael (5:10 am)**  
come to bed. it’s late._

Well, fuck.

“Oh, shit,” Simon breathes, rubbing a hand down his face as his brain desperately tries to come up with a way to explain this.

“Are you and Raphael sleeping together?” Clary squeals, voice way too high and shrill for Simon’s ears right now. “Are you dating? When did this happen? _How_ did this happen? And how come you didn’t tell me?”

“Oh my G-- fuck, Clary, keep your voice down,” Simon hisses, reaching out to press a hand against her mouth. “It’s not what you think.”

She swats him away. “Are you trying to tell me that this text from him has some other meaning?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, it’s not like that. We just sleep. Nothing else.”

“In the same bed?”

“Yes?”

Clary cups her hands over her own mouth this time, but pulls them away to speak. “Okay, but why?”

“It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. C’mon, Simon, you know you can tell me. I’d never judge you.”

Which is true. He also knows that once Clary gets an idea in her head, she won’t let it go until she’s followed through on whatever it is.

“He helps me with my nightmares.”

“How does that work?”

Simon shrugs, because even he’s not entirely sure. He only knows what Raphael has told him. “Apparently he can sense my anxiety or fear or something, and wakes me up before the nightmare gets too bad.”

“Oh, well that’s really sweet.” Clary gets a sappy smile on her face. “He must really care a lot about you.”

“I’m sure he’d do it for anyone,” Simon says, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“You really think he would?”

To be honest, he isn’t sure. Raphael is generally supportive with everyone in the clan, but Simon has noticed that lately, he pays significantly more attention to Simon than the others. Then again, maybe it’s just because he’s the newest clan member, so that’s why he’s been dedicating so much time and attention to Simon. As well as he’s come to know Raphael, in this, Simon still feels clueless.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” Simon sighs, scratches his forehead. “Maybe? But maybe not. It’s so hard to tell with him sometimes.”

“Raphael promised me he’d watch out for you, but I don’t know, Simon. This seems a little much for just keeping an eye on you. How long has this been going on for?”

“Uh, pretty much since I moved back in?”

Clary’s eyes widen. “Wow. When’s the last time you had a nightmare?”

Simon actually has to stop and think for a second, because now that she brings it up, he realizes that it’s been close to two weeks since his last nightmare.

“A couple weeks ago, I think?”

“And you still sleep with him every night? Or, day?”

“You’re making this sound way more sordid than it is,” Simon says, rather than answering the question, since it’s pretty obvious that he has been.

“Am I, though? I mean, Raphael’s a pretty decent guy, all things considered, and he obviously cares a lot about you.” She shrugs, going for casual, but Simon isn’t fooled for a second. “I’m just saying that if you guys had something going on, it wouldn’t exactly be surprising.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, I’ve kinda been wondering about your feelings for him recently anyway. And it sounds like he might have feelings for you too.”

Simon chokes on air.

Clary rolls her eyes. “Calm down, I’m just saying. You talk about Raphael all the time.”

“I do not!”

Clary laughs, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You absolutely _do_ , Simon. You literally haven’t stopped talking about Raphael since you met him. But especially since you moved back into the hotel.”

Simon huffs and folds his arms across his chest.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I’m sorry, I won’t bug you about it if it’s that much of a sore spot for you. But you know I’ll still love you and support you no matter what, right? As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. And if Raphael is the person who makes you happy, then that's cool too.”

And just like that, Simon’s reminded of why he has the best friend in the whole entire world. He’d like to keep feeling affronted, but he can’t when Clary’s being supportive and amazing like this.

“I know. You’re the best and I love you for it,” Simon says, and pulls her into a tight hug.

* * *

It’s nearly an hour from the time that Raphael texted Simon until the time he finally sees Clary out, promising to update her on any exciting Life Happenings (her term, not his) from now on. There are a few clan members who like to stay up late, but most have already been asleep for awhile. Silence is never something that Simon has particularly enjoyed, but with a million thoughts running through his mind right now, he finds he’s oddly grateful for it. 

Simon slowly makes his way to Raphael’s room, distracted, Clary’s earlier words running through his head on a constant loop. _Are you and Raphael dating? When’s the last time you had a nightmare? I’ve been kinda wondering about your feelings for him lately... You talk about Raphael all the time..._

It’s not that the thoughts haven’t crossed his mind before, because they have. With more and more frequency lately. Raphael is a great leader to the clan, an honorable man, and a good friend to Simon. He’s been better to Simon then Simon has ever deserved. Plus, Simon’s not blind. Raphael is incredibly attractive and anyone with functioning eyes can see that. It’s just that he’s way out of Simon’s league, and Simon only recently discovered that he even _wanted_ to be in that league in the first place. So while he may have considered the possibility once or twice, he never really thought there was a chance in hell. But Clary… well, she’s always able to be a little more objective about these things than he is. At least where Simon is concerned.

The DuMort may have once been a grand hotel, but far sooner than he’s ready, Simon finds himself wandering down the hallway leading to his and Raphael’s rooms. For a brief moment Simon considers taking the coward’s way out and just going to his own room instead, using the excuse that he didn’t want to wake Raphael by coming in so late. But as quickly as the thought forms, he dismisses it, knowing that in the end, it’ll only lead to more questions that he’s not ready to answer just yet.

Once outside of Raphael’s door, Simon takes a grounding breath to calm his nerves. He’s done this before, he reminds himself, nothing has changed. And then he’s turning the knob and pushing open the door.

The room is dark, giving off the illusion of night, but Simon can still see everything perfectly with his enhanced vision. Raphael doesn’t move as Simon makes his way around the room, trying to find the pajamas he left there from the night before. Unfortunately, they’re not where he remembers tossing them. Damn Raphael and his penchant for neatness.

Eventually, after some carefully calculated searching -- thank God Raphael at least has a method to his madness -- Simon finds the pajamas and manages to change into them without knocking down or tripping over anything. It’s quite the accomplishment, actually.

It isn’t until he’s sliding into the bed that he notices that Raphael’s eyes are open and watching him. Simon’s pretty sure his heart would be racing if it still had the ability to do so.

“You really need to stop trying to give me a heart attack all the time,” Simon squeaks, placing a hand over his chest.

“Took you long enough,” Raphael says, voice sleep gruff and, frankly, adorable.

Simon settles in more comfortably and turns to face Raphael, ignoring the stupid thoughts filling his head about the person he’s currently sharing a bed with. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t. I was only dozing.”

A frown pulls at Simon’s lips. “I thought you were exhausted?”

“I am. Just don’t sleep as well any more when…” He stops abruptly, darts his eyes away from Simon’s gaze.

Something in his tone peaks Simon’s curiosity. “When…?”

Raphael’s eyes slip shut and he’s quiet for so long that Simon wonders if he’s actually fallen asleep.

Just when he’s about to give up on getting an answer, Raphael speaks up again, so quietly Simon can barely hear him. But it’s loud enough.

“When you’re not here.”

It takes Simon a few moments to put everything together, but when he finally does, he realizes the implications of what Raphel just admitted and just how huge they are. Raphael Santiago, leader of the New York Vampire Clan, sleeps better when Simon is in the bed with him. _Simon_. Maybe Clary wasn’t so off-the-mark after all. Simon doesn’t know if the thought terrifies or excites him. Either way, it takes him a very long time to fall asleep that day.

* * *

In all the time that Simon’s been having nightmares, he’s dreamed about virtually every person he’s ever known. Strangely, one of the only people he hasn’t dreamed about yet finally makes an appearance after almost 3 dreamless weeks, and it ends up being one of the worst nightmares he’s ever experienced. 

In the dream, he’s been kidnapped by Camille, bound and gagged and left to hang in an incredibly awkward position just inches above the ground. He’s in constant physical pain, but it’s nothing compared to the emotional pain that she inflicts on him by bringing in another victim. Simon immediately feels sick when he sees that it’s Raphael. Camille proceeds to torture Raphael for hours on end, forcing Simon to watch every sick second of it. If he tries to look away, she hurts Raphael more, and if he screams at her to leave Raphael alone, she inflicts more pain on him. In the dream, Simon watches in horror, tears streaming down his face, as she slowly kills Raphael, helpless to stop her and helpless to save him.

Simon jolts awake with a start, pillow wet with blood from his tears. It takes Simon almost a full minute to get his bearings again, to realize that he’d just been dreaming, and that he and Raphael hadn’t been kidnapped by Camille. Except when Simon turns and reaches instinctively for Raphael, he isn’t in the bed beside Simon like he always is, which immediately fills him with dread.

“Raphael,” Simon calls out, any embarrassment at the desperation in his voice outweighed by the building fear in his gut.

A cursory scan of the room reveals that it’s empty, but it’s not night time yet, so there’s no way Raphael would be up for the day already. What if it hadn’t been a dream after all? What if Camille had somehow come back from the dead again to exact her ultimate revenge? It makes sense that she’d go for Raphael and make Simon watch the whole thing. He knows it’s ridiculous, knows it was only a nightmare, but his hands won’t stop trembling, and Raphael _isn’t here_.

He’s halfway out of bed, panic steadily rising, when Raphael appears in the doorway of the still dark bathroom. When he sees Simon’s face, he rushes to Simon’s side so fast that it almost makes his head spin. Relief instantly washes over him, but it doesn’t mean he can erase the images from his dream.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I had a nightmare.”

Raphael swears in Spanish. “Are you okay?”

“I… honestly? I don’t know,” Simon says. He instinctively reaches out for Raphael, no clear objective in mind. Maybe he just wants to touch, to reassure himself that Raphael isn’t a vision, that he’s real and as undead as ever. Raphael takes both of Simon’s hands in his own without hesitation, squeezing them firmly.

Unfortunately the action also draws Raphael’s attention in a way he isn’t expecting. “Simon, you’re trembling.”

The care and concern is so similar and yet simultaneously so different from the first time he woke up from a nightmare after being turned. For one, Raphael touches Simon far more than he ever used to. But this is something he’s grown accustomed to over the weeks. The most noticeable difference, though, is how Raphael’s voice softens when he’s talking to Simon, particularly in times like these. They still snark at each other during their waking hours, but even that has taken on more of a flirty edge than anything else. Simon still doesn’t know what it means from Raphael’s perspective, but ever since his conversation with Clary, Simon has reached some firm and enlightening conclusions about his own feelings.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I got scared.”

“You don’t need to apologize, idiota,” Raphael says gently, climbing back into the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He doesn’t. But he thinks maybe he should. “I, uh, had a dream about Camille. She tortured you for hours and forced me to watch. And I couldn’t do anything to help you. Every time I even tried, she would torture you more. It felt like it lasted for days, until eventually she killed you.” Simon sighs heavily, rubs absently at his face. “It felt so fucking real, you know? Like, more real than most of my other nightmares And then when I woke up and you weren’t here…”

It feels so stupid when he says it out loud, but the emotions were real, _are_ real. And the thought of anyone doing that to Raphael, let alone Camille, makes Simon feel ill.

“I was in the washroom,” Raphael says, like that wasn’t already obvious. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to wake you up. I should have been here.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simon rubs at his eyes and glances down at the bedsheets. When he speaks again, the words are so soft he can barely hear himself. “I don’t… I can’t. Not again, okay? I just can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t lose you.” The words are out of his mouth before he even has time to fully process the thought.

Raphael’s eyes widen immediately at the declaration, and Simon wishes desperately for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. My emotions are fucking with me right now.”

“It’s okay, I know. You don’t need to apologize for anything, mi sol.” And then Raphael is pulling Simon into his arms. Simon freezes for half a second, not quite used to this level of affection from Raphael, before melting into the embrace and hugging him back. After a moment, Raphael starts rubbing a hand up and down Simon’s back, whispering soft words into Simon’s ear. Simon doesn’t understand what they mean, but the intent behind them is clear, and Simon feels his heart clench with affection for this prickly vampire with a not-so-secret heart of gold.

They stay like that for several long moments, before Raphael loosens his grip and begins to shuffle around. Simon immediately starts to pull away, embarrassed by his obvious clinginess and inability to control his emotional responses to pretty much anything. But rather than shoving Simon away like he’s half expecting, Raphael lies back and pulls Simon down until his head is resting on Raphael’s chest instead, arms wrapping securely around Simon’s body.

“Sleep,” Raphael commands. And then, a little quieter, “You’re safe with me.”

And Simon does.

* * *

That evening Simon wakes up, face pressed into Raphael’s shoulder and an arm loosely draped over his stomach. It’s wildly intimate, but equally pleasant. Simon spends the next five minutes just watching Raphael sleep, simply because he can, and finds himself wondering what it would feel like to wake up to this every morning. He thinks it’s something he could get used to, and has to fight the urge to brush one of Raphael’s soft curls away from his forehead.

Eventually, life catches up to them, and soon they’re both preparing for the day. But if Raphael suspects Simon had been watching him sleep, he doesn’t comment on it.

They don’t discuss the incident at all. Not immediately after it happens, nor later in the day.

But Raphael doesn’t treat him any differently than normal, so Simon considers it a success overall.

* * *

Most Fridays, the clan like to head out to the club, to let off a little steam and have some fun after a long week of engaging in vampire-related activities. Sometimes they head to Pandemonium, but recently they’ve been frequenting one of the local clubs owned by a couple members of the clan. Normally Simon likes to go along with the group, because you can say whatever you want about the shadow world, but Downworlders know how to party like nobody’s business.

But Simon has been feeling like shit since Wednesday. For all intents and purposes, it feels like he has the flu, but he is quickly informed that apparently a bad batch of blood can temporarily transmit disease-like symptoms when consumed. This is especially the case for young vampires. So, lucky Simon, despite the fact that several other members also drank from this batch, he’s the only one who _actually_ ended up getting sick.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Stan asks.

Simon can’t see him from his position lying face down on the couch, but he waves a hand in what he assumes is Stan’s general direction.

“I think I’m dying. Again”

He hears a soft snort, and then, “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”

Simon hears him and a few others leave the room, but doesn’t bother wasting energy on replying.

He spends the next hour groggily watching season 1 of Brooklyn Nine Nine on Netflix (which he had eventually talked Raphael into ordering, on the premise that Simon was the one who was going to pay for it). Halfway through the Vulture being the royal dick that he is, someone places a glass of blood on the coffee table directly in front of him, effectively blocking his view of the TV.

“Hey, I was watching that.”

“When’s the last time you fed?”

Simon drags his head up off the couch to stare up at Raphael, who’s staring right back down at him.

“I’m dying,” he whines. “I haven’t had time.”

“And not taking care of yourself is going to somehow help you feel better?”

“Yes?”

“Señor ayudame,” Raphael says, and smacks Simon lightly on the head. “Sit. Now.”

“You know, I think you’re mixing up your jokes--”

“Simon, I swear to God.”

“Okay, fine,” Simon huffs, pushing himself into a seated position. For all the claims of increased strength and abilities that supposedly come along with being a vampire, he feels about as strong as a kitten right now.

“Drink up,” Raphael holds out the glass of blood until Simon takes it from his hands, then takes a seat on the couch where Simon’s head had just been, staring intently at him.

“Are you seriously going to sit here and watch me drink this?”

“Yes.”

So, Simon takes his sweet time, partially out of spite, but also partially because he maybe not-so-secretly enjoys having Raphael around. Like, a lot. Much to his immense pleasure, Raphael doesn’t run out of the room as soon as Simon’s done drinking. And Simon has to admit that the blood was probably a smart idea, as he’s already feeling more energized.

“What are you watching?” Raphael asks, seeming to only now notice the TV in the background.

“Brooklyn Nine Nine. It’s the only cop show Luke can stomach watching, so it’s sort of become our thing over the years.”

Raphael hums noncommittally but remains seated. 

Five minutes turns into fifteen, which turns into another two episodes. Raphael starts asking questions about the characters and the story, occasionally mumbling comments to himself in Spanish. But when Simon casts a sidelong glance at him and sees the smile tugging at the corners of Raphael’s mouth, he knows he’s won him over.

Unfortunately Simon’s brief burst of energy drains away rather quickly, and before he knows it, his head is lolling back against the couch as he struggles to remain upright.

“Maybe you should take a nap.”

“I don’t want to. Too much walking involved.”

Raphael rolls his eyes with such ferocity that Simon can actually hear it.

“Why are you always so difficult about everything?”

“It’s just part of my charm, I guess.”

Raphael shoves lightly at Simon, but there’s no mistaking the little smirk that briefly crosses his features. It makes Simon feel warm all over. Though that may also be the illness. He isn’t sure.

A thought crosses his mind in that moment, one that could either be the greatest idea he’s ever had, or the absolute worst. At least he has some plausible deniability if Raphael decides to murder him for it. He can always blame it on the fever.

Before he’s able to talk himself out of it, Simon allows his body to flop to the side, shuffling down until his head is settled directly in Raphael’s lap. Raphael, for his part, doesn’t seem to react at all. He doesn’t start cuddling Simon, but he doesn’t shove him away either, so all in all Simon thinks he handles it rather well.

“I can move if you want,” Simon says, after a few quiet moments pass. The last thing he wants to do is make Raphael feel uncomfortable.

But Raphael stills him with a gentle hand to his shoulder. “It’s fine. You don’t have to move. I don’t mind.”

Simon smiles and squirms around until he’s a bit more comfortable. If Raphael’s okay with this then he sure as hell isn’t going to waste the opportunity. A few minutes pass after they return their attention to the TV, and Simon feels himself begin to drift off. He’s pulled out of his sleepy haze, however, when he feels a hand settle into his hair, fingers lightly scratching at his scalp. It feels unbelievable, and Simon’s half convinced he’s already asleep and dreaming, because _holy fucking shit, Raphael is running his fingers through Simon’s hair and this might almost be better than sex._

The noise he makes in response unfortunately seems to give the opposite impression to Raphael.

“Sorry, should I stop?” Raphael asks suddenly, fingers stilling in his hair.

Simon tries not to purr like the previously mentioned kitten that he is, but it’s a damn near thing. “No, it’s good. Super calming, actually. You don’t have to stop. Unless you want to, of course.”

It takes a few moments, but Raphael eventually starts running his fingers through Simon’s hair again. It feels so good that Simon can’t help the little groan that slips past his lips. It ends up sounding way dirtier than he’d intended, but he can’t even be bothered to care, because Raphael has magical hands and he would very much like to feel those hands on other parts of his body. Every and any other part, really. He’s not picky.

Somewhere into his fantasies about Raphael and his hands, Simon falls asleep. It isn’t a deep sleep, though, and he feels himself drift in and out several times. One of those times, he’s met with the sound of hushed voices.

“I mean, I’d heard some of the others talking, but I figured they must be reading too much into it. I didn’t expect it to be actually true.”

It’s a woman’s voice, and it sounds vaguely familiar. Lily, maybe?

“Didn’t expect what to be true?”

“Do you seriously need me to tell you? Because I’d think it’s pretty obvious.”

Raphael remains quiet, but Simon feels his fingers briefly twitch in his hair.

“He’s sleeping in your lap while you’re playing with his hair. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never once seen you let anybody get that close to you, but you literally let Simon cling to you like an octopus.” She sighs, and if Simon didn’t already know it was Lily, he would’ve known now for sure. ”Never mind the fact that you let him wear your clothes. I’ve seen you throw a fit when someone else even looks at them, let alone tries to wear them.”

“I do not throw a fit.”

“And you are so missing the point here, Raphael.”

There’s a long pause, and then, “It's different.”

“Yeah, you've made that very clear.”

“I’m not sure why you seem to think that this is any of your business.”

“It’s _the clan’s_ business when you’re sleeping with someone who could betray us again.”

Simon feels Raphael instantly stiffen beneath his cheek. “Simon wouldn’t do that.” His voice is cold and hard. Angry.

“How do you know that though?” Her voice softens. “You know I like him, but it’s not like he’s not capable.”

“Because I know him. He made a mistake, but he learned from it and has proven himself worthy of forgiveness.”

Simon is surprised by the vehemence in Raphael’s voice, in the way that he’s defending Simon even though Simon still doesn’t feel like he deserves it. His heart swells with affection for Raphael.

There’s a long pause before Lily speaks again. “Do you trust him?”

Raphael doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “Yes.”

“Why?” It doesn’t sound accusatory, just curious.

“When Simon let out Camille, he did it to help what he believed was his family. It wasn’t right, but he knew he’d made a mistake, and he did everything in his power to make it up to us. Or did you forget how he almost got himself killed when he confronted her?”

“No, of course not. Are you saying that he’s given up on the Shadowhunters then?”

“They’ll always be important to him, and I wouldn’t dream of trying to restrict him from the people who love him. But the difference is that he realizes that _we_ are his family now.”

“I hope you’re right about that.”

“I am.” His voice is firm. Confident. And it brokers no argument

“All right. Well, if you say that you truly trust him, then that’s good enough for me. I’m just worried about you. And how everyone else might react.”

“And I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll just have to trust you on that.”

“You should. Thank you, Lily.”

Simon listens to Lily as she walks out of the room, and quietly debates on whether or not it would be safe to pretend he’s just waking up now, or if he should just try to go back to sleep and pretend he didn’t hear anything at all. He’s in the middle of mentally contemplating the pros and cons of each possibility when he feels Raphael’s hand tighten as he tugs gently as Simon’s hair.

“I know you’re awake and I know you heard everything I just said,” he whispers. Which means that Simon is totally busted. “But you should know that I would have said everything I did, regardless of whether or not you heard it.”

Simon smiles into Raphael’s leg.

“But don’t get too full of yourself, mi rayo de sol. Your ego is far too inflated as it is.”

This time, Simon laughs out loud, and he carefully flips over onto his back so he can direct his smile at the source of his happiness.

“Guess I must have learned from the best, then.”

Raphael rolls his eyes. “You should go to sleep for real. Get some proper rest. I’ve got work for you to do tomorrow.”

“Oh goody,” Simon grumbles, but he’s not the least bit upset as he peels himself off the couch and makes his way down the hall towards the bedrooms. Without any conscious awareness, Simon finds himself crawling into Raphael’s bed instead of his own. It’s not like he’s slept there recently anyway.

It isn’t until much later that Simon realizes Raphael never once addressed Lily’s accusation that they were sleeping together.

* * *

Two nights later, just after breakfast with the clan, Raphael informs Simon that they’re going to be attending an upscale vampire gathering across town.

“So, like, a party?”

“It’s more formal than that. But I guess it could be likened to a party, if you needed to classify it.”

“Cool. Who’s all going?”

Raphael raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking me for the entire guest list, or who’s coming from the clan?”

“Both, I guess? If you have all that information?” At Raphael’s unimpressed expression, Simon amends his answer. “Or, uh, just the clan.”

“I, and by extension, you, will be representing the clan. Unless you’d prefer if I brought someone else instead.”

“No, no, I’m good,” Simon reassures. There’s no way in hell he’d miss an opportunity like this. Especially when Raphael seemingly chose him out of everyone else to be his guest. “But I don’t exactly have any formal clothes. As you know from the whole wedding thing.”

“You don’t have any decent clothes, period.”

Which would probably explain why Simon wears Raphael’s clothes more than his own these days.

“So does that mean I get to raid your closet?” Simon asks, hopeful.

Raphael heaves an exaggeratedly put-upon sigh, but Simon’s already heading for the closet before Raphael’s even had a chance to respond.

* * *

It’s possible that Simon is incredibly biased. Especially since he doesn’t exactly have years worth of party experience, let alone Downworlder party experience. But he feels pretty confident in his growing belief that vampires know how to throw the best parties of all.

“It’s not technically a party,” Raphael clarifies, because he doesn’t like fun, apparently.

Simon grins and shakes his head. “You say potato, I say po-tah-toe.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re confused,” Simon tells him, and Raphael coughs on what seems to be nothing as they make their way around the room. It fills Simon with a sense of satisfaction to have had that kind of effect on him.

The vampire gathering is at a swanky hotel in downtown New York. They have an entire floor blocked off for the event, with multiple connecting conference rooms, and security to ensure that no one gets in who shouldn’t be there. The event is catered, too, and Simon doesn’t even want to know where everything was prepared without anyone figuring out what was going on.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Simon asks.

“We mostly mingle and network. I need to make my presence known, especially as the new leader of the New York clan.”

A few vampires leer at them as they pass, and Simon feels Raphael’s hand close around his arm and pull him closer. “Try not to wander too far. There are some people you should meet.”

* * *

Raphael introduces Simon to far more vampires than he’ll ever remember the names of, but it’s kind of interesting to watch him in his element. Simon’s not surprised by how charming and charismatic Raphael can be, because he’s seen it in action before, but never quite to this extent. He also can’t help but notice how Raphael keeps him close, guiding him through the crowd with a hand on his back, and how some of the other vampires give them knowing looks. Simon isn’t sure if Raphael’s doing it on purpose, or if he’s just so used to being physical with Simon that he doesn’t even realize how his actions come across to others.

After doing the rounds once, Raphael finally picks up on the fact that Simon’s been eyeing the food since they walked into the banquet hall.

“I’m impressed that you’ve managed to pay attention this long, to be honest,” Raphael says with a smirk.

“You know me so well.”

“There’s someone I need to talk to, so you might as well try some of the food while I’m gone.”

“Sweet, don’t worry about me,” Simon says, already making his way towards the buffet table.

The food is actually amazing. He knows that it’s mostly made of blood, mixed with small amounts of other ingredients, but the skill with which the chef made it look like something else is more than a little impressive. Plus, it’s been so long since he’s had a real meal, even if this still doesn’t technically count. Simon may be enjoying himself more than strictly necessary, but he misses eating, so he thinks he’s entitled to get a little over excited about this.

He’s in the middle of sampling several different wines, when he feels a hand grip his shoulder.

“Is it as good as you expected it to be?”

Simon grins when he sees Raphael and holds up his glass. “You have no idea.”

“I think I might have some idea,” Raphael says, smiling softly. He reaches around Simon to grab a glass of wine himself, and Simon may or may not be mesmerized by the way his throat bobs as he takes a long sip.

“Anyway,” Raphael continues, “I ran into an old rival of Camille’s who’s willing to consider an alliance with us, so I need to meet with him to discuss a few more details. It shouldn’t take more than half an hour. Think you can handle yourself while I’m gone?”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that.”

Raphael gives him a look. “Try not to cause too much trouble.”

Simon rolls his eyes, even though he knows Raphael is kidding. “I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”

“Eres un ridiculo! I don’t know why I put up with you.” Raphael places his now empty glass on a tray, and squeezes Simon’s arm as he slides past him.

No matter what anyone might try to claim to the contrary, Simon totally does not stare at Raphael’s ass as he walks away.

* * *

An hour passes with no sign of Raphael, and it’s not that Simon’s worried per se. It’s just that he kind of misses his company. He’s made some new friends, but rambling to nearby vampires about the various foods he’s trying is far less entertaining when he doesn’t have someone muttering back at him in Spanish. (Simon doesn’t understand the majority of what Raphael says, but he took enough Spanish in high school to know the basics, and to know that Raphael isn’t actually insulting him. Usually.)

Simon decides to go looking for him after another ten minutes go by.

Thankfully, there aren’t a lot of places Raphael can disappear to, and after searching one of the conference rooms without luck, Simon manages to track him down in the second.

He recognizes Raphael immediately, even though his back is turned to Simon, and Simon doesn’t know what it says about him that he can pick Raphael out of a crowd based solely on the back of his head. Raphael is still talking to a man who Simon assumes must be the former rival turned possible ally. If the grin on his face is any indication, Raphael must be working him over quite well.

Simon starts to have second thoughts about interrupting Raphael when he’s clearly making some progress with this guy, when said guy suddenly grips both of Raphael’s shoulders and starts leaning in towards him. Simon freezes on the spot, and time itself seems to halt, his view of the world narrowing into a singular focus on what’s going on twenty feet away. His confusion is swiftly replaced by horrified clarity when he watches this man kiss Raphael.

Simon panics and immediately turns away, a sick feeling growing in his stomach as he rushes from the room, unable to watch even half a second more.

* * *

The thing is, Simon knows he’s overreacting. He _knows_ it. Realistically, he has no idea what he just witnessed, what happened after he left, or what it even means in the grand scheme of things. Simon knows he could have misinterpreted things, that it could have been merely a friendly gesture. Hell, for all he knows, it could be some sort of weird, ancient vampire tradition that Simon’s heard nothing about. 

But logic apparently has no place in Simon’s brain right now, because he’s half a second away from breaking down completely, surrounded by a bunch of important vampires he doesn’t know. All because the man he has feelings for may have just kissed someone else. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass Raphael, but his chest feels heavy, and he knows he needs to calm the hell down, fast.

Earlier, Simon had noticed a balcony, and somehow he manages to find it again. When he slips outside, there miraculously isn’t anyone else out there. It’s a small thing, but he’s grateful for it, all the same. The air is cool, and Simon takes in several slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.

He’s seen all the teen movies, okay? He knows how this kind of things usually plays out. There’s some huge misunderstanding between the two main love interests that could easily be resolved if the people involved would just talk it out. But they don’t, and there’s always a bunch of unnecessary angst that Simon’s never understood the purpose of. So, he knows he’s being a tad overdramatic, knows that he’s playing into the cliched movie trope.

But what he didn’t expect was how strong his reaction would be to seeing Raphael with someone else. He hadn’t even reacted like this when he saw Clary with Jace for the first time. It had been shitty, but it’s nothing compared to the raw ache he’s feeling right now.

Fuck, Simon is so gone on Raphael. How did he not realize it before this moment?

He walks over to the railing and looks down at the night life below. Simon has always been more of a night person, but now that he can no longer be in the sun, he wishes he’d appreciated the daytime a bit more when he’d had the chance. Still, there’s something almost soothing about watching the cars drive around down below, the only light coming from street lamps and nearby buildings. Sometimes Simon longs for the simplicity of his old life. Six months ago, he would have been preparing for college, likely still playing and performing with his band, and certainly wouldn’t have been pining over a vampire.

Simon is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t even realize that someone else has come out onto the balcony until he hears a voice address him.

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Simon whips around, startled at Raphael's sudden presence, and he instinctively grabs at his chest. Whatever is written across his face, however, is enough to wipe the smile from Raphael’s face, and his apparent happiness immediately melts into concern.

“What's wrong, mi sol? You’re upset.”

Simon wipes at his face as Raphael steps into his personal space, reaching out a hand as if to touch him, but something halts the action, and his arm falls back to his side instead. 

“I'm okay. I'm fine,” Simon says, more to buy himself time than to actively mislead Raphael. 

“You are clearly not fine, Simon.”

“It’s stupid. Honestly, it's nothing. You should just ignore me.” Simon scrubs a hand down his face and turns away from Raphael, staring out into the darkness of the night instead.

“I couldn’t ignore you if I tried,” Raphael says, voice soft and low, and Simon can feel him at his back. “And whatever it is, I know it’s not stupid.”

Simon forces himself not to turn around, even though he wants nothing more than to look at Raphael right now. But he needs to regain his composure first, because he can’t afford to lose it.

“I’m being my usual over-emotional self. I have no one to blame for my feelings but me.”

“Simon, what are you talking about?”

Simon takes a deep breath and finally turns around. “I saw you. With that guy.”

“What guy? Dominic?”

Apparently hoping for a denial of some sort was too much to ask for. “Was that his name?” Simon asks, even though he doesn’t care. But it’s easier to say that than what he’s really thinking.

“Yes. But I still don’t understand why you’re upset. Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?”

Raphael’s really going to make him say it? Simon takes a deep breath, and just decides to get it out of the way. “I saw… I saw him kiss you.”

God, when he says it out loud, it makes Simon sound like such a _child_. He’s never wished more for a sudden, magical sunrise to just put him out of his misery.

Raphael frowns, like he’s still confused. “But why would that upset-- oh.” He stares at Simon until realization suddenly dawns on his face. “ _Oh_.”

Simon covers his face with his hands and tries not to die from mortification. Seriously, his life has turned into a bad rom-com. How did things manage to get so out of control?

“Mi bello y estupido rayo de sol.” 

Raphael reaches out and closes his fingers around Simon’s wrists, gently pulling Simon’s hands away from his face. Simon’s half expecting to see a disgusted frown or glare aimed his way. But Raphael’s got a soft, small smile on his face, and now it’s Simon’s turn to feel confused. “I know how it must have looked, but whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

“Raphael, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do, though.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I screwed everything up with my feelings, okay?”

“Simon, stop. Would you just listen to me for a second?” Raphael says, squeezing Simon’s wrists for emphasis before he lets go.

If nothing else, Simon knows he should at least hear what Raphael has to say. It was always his plan anyway. He was just hoping he could have had some time to calm down before having this conversation.

“Okay, yeah. Sorry, you’re right.”

“You’re not wrong about Dominic kissing me. But it wasn’t romantic. Far from it, actually,” Raphael says with a little shake of his head. And despite how upset he feels, Simon can’t stop staring at Raphael, so drawn to him still. He really is radiant under the light of the moon.

“I used to be friends with him, a long time ago, before Camille broke his trust and severed the alliance,” Raphael continues. “He’s always been very… physically affectionate. To the point of being obnoxious. He knew it used to bother me, so once we reached a new agreement of sorts, he apparently decided to kiss me in celebration. That was it, nothing more.”

A sense of relief washes over Simon, knowing he had been wrong after all. But the relief fades again when he remembers that just because Raphael didn’t want to kiss Dominic doesn’t mean that he wants to kiss _Simon_.

“Guess I kind of overreacted, didn’t I?”

“A little, yeah,” Raphael agrees. “But maybe that’s my fault for not being clear with you about my own feelings. I thought I was being obvious, but I guess I wasn’t.”

Raphael steps closer to Simon and reaches up with one hand to cup the side of Simon’s face. “So, for that, I apologize. And I promise to try to do better in the future.”

Simon doesn’t even have the chance to react before Raphael starts to lean in, and Simon meets him halfway, excited and eager and so, so ready for this. When their lips finally touch for the first time, it’s like everything he ever imagined, and so much more. Raphael’s lips are soft but pliant against his own, simultaneously insistent and gentle, like he wants Simon to know he can take control whenever he wants. Simon wraps one arm around Raphael’s waist as he pulls back slightly to adjust the angle of their kiss. 

When he’d envisioned kissing Raphael, Simon had always pictured it being somewhat rough. Demanding. Urgent. Which would have been more than fine with him. But this… this is almost the exact opposite. The only word to describe it is sweet, and loving. Like Raphael is trying to tell Simon how much he cares, how much he trusts him, through his lips alone. It makes something warm settle in Simon’s gut and he instinctively tugs him closer.

Kissing Raphael is incredible, and Simon reaches up to bury one of his hands in Raphael’s hair, biting softly at Raphael’s lower lip. Raphael makes a little noise of surprise, and Simon uses the opportunity to lick into his mouth. Raphael brushes his thumb back and forth across Simon’s cheek, his other hand now tangled in Simon’s hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. It feels so good, and Simon thinks he would be content to stay here kissing Raphael like this until the sun rose.

“So, was that clear enough for you?” Raphael asks, when they reluctantly break part.

Simon presses his forehead to Raphael’s and smiles. “I think I’ve got it. But you might need to keep reminding me, so I don’t forget.”

Raphael grins back at him, and tugs playfully at Simon’s right earlobe. “Good point. You do have a pretty steep learning curve.”

Simon laughs. “I should probably be offended, but I’m not. I’ll gladly take this lesson on a daily basis.”

“I think we should probably go back home,” Raphael says, kissing him once more on the lips before pulling apart fully.

And Simon doesn’t argue as Raphael takes his hand and leads him back into the main conference room to say their hasty good-byes.

* * *

Somehow they get back to the DuMort in one piece, despite the fact that they’re both beyond distracted by each other. Simon feels a bit like a teenager again, though he recognizes that he’s technically not really all that far away from it still, and never really will be. 

They barely make it into their room before Raphael is pushing Simon up against the wall and capturing his lips in another kiss. Simon presses against him, Raphael’s hands gripping at Simon’s waist as he kisses him back. It’s less gentle than before, but just as enthusiastic and sweet, and Simon never wants to stop kissing Raphael for as long as he lives, if this is how it’s always going to feel. He reaches up and tangles a hand in Raphael’s hair, tugging slightly as he deepens the kiss.

When they eventually separate, Raphael presses a soft kiss against the corner of Simon’s mouth before pulling away from the wall. Simon can’t help but notice the bed for the first time when he opens his eyes, and his gaze falls on it, holding there for a beat. Naturally, his mind can’t help but wander to where things might be headed. 

“So, uh...” he says, with his usual elegance.

Raphael glances over his shoulder at where Simon’s gaze was resting, and in the split second between looking over at the bed and turning back to Simon, something small shifts in his expression. To an outside observer, it would look like everything was fine. But Simon knows Raphael, has learned to read him like a book over the past several months, and so he knows there’s something going on internally with Raphael right now. Simon doesn’t think it was the kissing, because Raphael seemed very much into it, but something else is clearly getting to him all of a sudden.

“Raph, hey,” Simon says softly and cautiously reaches for Raphael. “What's going through your head right now?”

Raphael takes Simon’s hands, giving them a gentle squeeze, but doesn't meet his gaze. “It's just…”

“If you're having second thoughts about this, or about us, that's okay. I would never push you to do anything you weren't comfortable with.”

“It's not that.” Raphael smiles softly at him, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “And I know that you’d never do anything that made me uncomfortable. I want to be with you. More than you know.”

“Okay.” Simon nods and waits, knowing that Raphael will say what he needs to say when he's ready.

It takes several long moments before Raphael finally looks up at Simon again. “It's just a lot to take in right now, you know? In a good way, but I'm not used to this, so it's a bit overwhelming.”

Simon feels like there's something Raphael's trying to say without outright saying it. So he leads Raphael towards the couch and takes a seat, Raphael sitting down beside him, their fingers still entwined. “It's okay, I get it. This is a lot for me too. I'm not used to being with a guy either, but we'll figure it out. It can’t be that difficult.”

“That's not quite what I meant,” Raphael says, and he pulls his hands free from Simon's.

He looks so nervous, so wound up compared to how relaxed he'd been just a short while ago. Simon hates that something is clearly bothering Raphael, and that he doesn't know how to fix it, because he doesn't know what it is to begin with. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? Like, I'm not going to be angry or upset.”

“I know that, mi amor. I'm just not sure how to explain it.”

“If you need more time--” Simon starts, but Raphael interrupts him.

“No. I don't need more time.” Raphael takes a deep breath, and Simon wonders if that's a calming technique he picked up from Simon, because he's never seen him do it before. “When I say I'm not used to this, I mean I'm not used to it, period. To feeling something. For _anyone_.”

Simon nods, but remains silent, giving Raphael whatever time he needs.

“Magnus said I was probably on the asexual spectrum. For most of my life, sex had never really been on my radar, and it just didn’t interest me all that much. So I figured it didn't really matter one way or the other. But then you came along, and everything got so confusing. I started to feel all these things… for you." 

Raphael's eyes dart down briefly, and Simon tries to give him an encouraging smile. It’s clear that this is something that has been weighing on Raphael’s mind for awhile, and Simon hopes that no one has ever tried to make him feel poorly about himself because of it. If so, Simon will gladly hunt them down and make them regret ever trying to hurt this amazing man sitting across from him.

“What I'm trying to say,” Raphael continues, “--is that I've never really desired romance or sex before. I think... I think I want that with you, though. But it's all so new still, and even though I want more, eventually, I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s just a lot right now. Overwhelming. And I don't know if I can be for you what you want or need me to be.”

So that’s what this is all about then. Which is understandable, especially if this is new to him. He’s probably scared, and Simon doesn’t blame him, because in a lot of ways he’s scared too. But Simon knows exactly how he feels about everything, and about Raphael, however it’s obvious that Raphael doesn’t.

“Raph,” Simon says, and reaches up to brush his fingers against the side of Raphael's face. Raphael’s eyes flutter closed for a moment. “Thank you for trusting me with that. But you don't need to be anything else for me other than exactly who you are. If you want to wait for sex, we can wait for sex. If you don't want to have sex at all, then we won't have sex at all. None of that changes how I feel about you, okay? Not even a little bit. For what it's worth, I'm not exactly great in the relationship department either. Mostly I just pine from afar. So, we can figure it out together. Assuming you want an actual relationship with me, of course.”

Their eyes meet, and Raphael stares at Simon with such intensity that Simon feels like he’s peering into his soul.

Raphael nods after a moment, seemingly finding whatever he was looking for. “Yeah, I do. And I’d very much like that.”

Something suddenly occurs to Simon, and he blurts it out before he can fully process the thought. “Um, I mean, you seemed like you were into it, but are you okay with the kissing? Because if not, I’m so, so sorry, and I hope you know I wouldn’t have pushed things if I’d known--”

“Sí, mi sol,” Raphael interrupts. “I like kissing. I especially like kissing you. I would have told you if I wasn’t comfortable with any of it, okay?”

“Yeah, all right.” Simon nods. “So, how do you feel about hugging?”

“I hate it,” Raphael deadpans, even though Simon knows he’s a lying liar who lies.

“Awww, come here, babe,” Simon says, and pulls Raphael into a hug. Raphael makes a noise of protest, but he clings tightly to Simon anyway, burying his face in Simon’s neck.

“All right, we’re taking it slow,” Simon says, when they pull apart, and smiles at Raphael. “So, what do you want? Like right at this very moment?”

Raphael stares at Simon for a moment before ducking his head, bashfully. It’s actually really adorable, but Simon doesn’t comment on it, because he needs Raphael to know that he can ask for anything he wants without fear of judgement.

“I want to sleep. With you. Actually sleep, I mean.” He pauses, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Like how we did after you had that nightmare about me.”

Simon grins. “I knew it! I knew you were secretly a cuddler.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Simon starts stripping out of his fancy clothes and changing into his pajamas, as Raphael does the same. And if he’s bothered by the way Simon tosses the clothing onto the floor, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Sure, you don’t.”

“Dios, I’m already starting to question all of my life choices.”

“Yeah, yeah, come here, my prickly vampire boyfriend.,” Simon says, as he throws the covers back and climbs into the bed.

“Never call me that ever again,” Raphael says, but he’s smiling like a goof, and Simon never wants to let him go.

He settles comfortably in the bed -- _their_ bed -- and opens his arms for Raphael, who climbs into them like he was made specifically for Simon. Raphael rests his face on Simon’s chest, arm draped loosely across his stomach, and Simon can’t stop himself from pressing a soft kiss to the top of Raphael’s head.

“Sleep well, mi sol,” Raphael says, and squeezes Simon in a gentle hug.

This time, Simon knows that he will.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Come [flail with me on tumblr](http://accordingtomel.tumblr.com/) about Saphael! <333
> 
> Spanish translations:
> 
>  _"Por el amor de Dios, Simon!”_ \-- "For the love of God, Simon."
> 
>  _“Por todas las idioteces…”_ \-- "Of all the idiotic things..."
> 
>  _“Dios, dame la fuerza para lidiar con este.”_ \-- "Lord, give me the strength to deal with this one."
> 
>  _“Mi sol.”_ \-- "My sunshine."
> 
>  _“Señor ayudame.”_ \-- "Lord help me."
> 
>  _“Eres un ridiculo.”_ \-- "You're ridiculous."
> 
>  _“Mi bello y estupido rayo de sol”_ \-- "My beautiful, stupid ray of sunshine."


End file.
